The Santhal Parganas, Dumka

The song of it sing I, Ranging from Sahebganj to Pakur To Deoghar and Dumka to Jamtara, The clusters of hills Dotting the highlands and downlands With the forests With red-mouthed monkeys, Hanumans, black bears and tigers Roaming large. The hills shining blue, Standing solitary, The landscapes secluded and manless Away from haunt, But full of mahua, sagun and saal trees, A summer full with the scent of Black-berries and jack fruits, Mangoes full with, Plums in winter wild and prickly. The palash trees small-small Dotting the wilds and hills, The palm and date trees And the lands barren and unfurrowed Many, The streams murmuring by In between the hills somewhere, The rivers drying deep In summer When the sun blazes it And the hots blow they To ruffle it all. But much of its greenery bereft of, That exotic flora and fauna on the brink of extinction, The tigers from Shikaripara, Masalia and Kathikund Almost gone now, The black bears too are not In the Mayurakshi forest region, Just the hills crushed and quarried after Lying a few As barren stumps And the palash trees cut down in the maximum. The homely black pigs and piglets Playing into the bushes, The poorman houses made from mud and straw As the far flung hamlets and thorps Shaded under the peepul and banyan trees, Leaving much to traverse to reach the village On foot or by the bullock-cart. The house sparrows dancing, playing and hopping All around, Lowly into the dust And picking foodgrains, The crows crowing for water and food, That sly and cleverly black crow, Lifting the bread crumb from the aluminum bowl Of the small countryside toddler child And flying away.