The Workshop

The remnants of a Blacksmith's workshop Where once the sounds were heavy The wheel was rolling day and night When sickles were the main product and tool The farmer's choice made them busy The stone cutter's axe were sharpened here Still had little income and savings in penury No longer now exist in my village The dilapidated shed and his own primitive tools The depletion of paddy field, All made them jobless and unsustainable Still the remnants are lying there As a monument of this village life of the time.