Women sang sowing songs.
Songs might have been sad,
As sky would be soon empty.
There was not enough slush
To go for the standing paddy,
With common legs drowned
And not even up to the ankle
With saree raised just above.
Women sang sowing songs.
Songs might have been sad,
As sky would be soon empty.
There was not enough slush
To go for the standing paddy,
With common legs drowned
And not even up to the ankle
With saree raised just above.
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