It was sunset lone
The sky deep orange, and the birds lined
For homecoming, and lazily they gleamed.
Thirteen peasants angling, their eyes fixed to baits,
And beside half a dozen half-naked children dirtying in the sand,
And their mothers hurriedly untying the cattle-knots.
Yonder the forest looked dark and gloom,
Two or three foxes squirmed past the maze field,
And now and then peacocks’ call brazened the ears.
No pain, no grief or suffering,
No sickness of the city,
Here all quiet and serene!