The Man We Loved.

There I have the experience of an old man Who were walking long distances Where he opted walking in bare foots Almost throughout the rainy days He walked along the hilly land An umbrella always missing in hand He was the friend of nature, the sun The rain, forest, honeybees, And the wild rabbits which stood near him They enjoyed his presence and never escaped The wore little clothes barest minimum In his hand there he kept a stick always To keep the ways in order and remove obstacles Not to harm the species of the forests He knew well the water sources of forest He kept them clean in his own efforts In moonlight his presence was there In the open place of the little hut The thatched roof and specially maintained And an ordinary coat he himself made The man sung the songs of the wild The life of the departed souls of predecessors The drum beating sounds in distance heard We were assuming the hands behind the drums A great man though illiterate, the natural human.