Said She, Why Does He Read So Much, Remain Lost In His Studies?

'Why does he read so much, Keep himself busy with, Reading and writing and thinking, Himself talking, himself whispering, Does he have no time to tlak with me, To see me, Smile and laugh with me, ' The rustic maid thought it within, Full of youth, love and blood. Again thought she within, 'Why has he brought me, Marrried and brought me If had to read, Read and write Why did he bring me from, Went to see, Saw and liked, Liked and loved me, I shall not, Shall not leave him? ' 'I keep waiting for him And he comes to naught, Instead of remains lost in His studies, No time to talk to, Smile with, Only the ooks, Is the book all? Let the time come, I slhall teach him By pushing the books and papers Into the earthern oven And the story will finish it itself.' Saying this, the rustic maid started weeping, Weeping and flinging The papers Of the scholar, Quarrelling with and gathering people In the countryside home And weeping, Weeping and pushing into the earthen over, Finally bringing an end to his scholarship. The problem was, 'Why does he not smile on seeing me, Why does he not talk with Instead of keeping company of the books, If had to, why did he marry And bring me home? ' 'Leave the books, Your researches and paper-writing, Love me. Why does not smile On marking me? Are the books dear to him, Not me? '