DONKEY--DRIVERS

                       

                                           
                                                                   ( I )

         1                Yonder wander the donkey-drivers

                                    Dressed in diverse patched clothes so queer

                                    Shouting at their hard-working herd

                                    Which bear the load of red, soft earth

                                     Placed on either side of their backs in gunny bags

                                     Like panniers : they humbly pace onward

                                     Like submissive lads without any complaint --

                                     A train of donkeys with mute downcast looks ;

                                     Their masters walk behind their cavalry

                                     With canes in their hands and whistling soft ;

                                     The donkeys shed their load in a heap

                                     To go back again to get their sacks re-filled ;

                                     From morn to eve they drudge ; their masters

                                     Watch them as they drag on and nibble at

                                     The way-side grass with heads bent low ;

                       

                                                                       (  II  )

                                     The drivers shout "a-hey ! " to spur them move

                                     And at sundown the donkeys return

                                     The lads ride on them like brave knights ;

                                     A vagrant race, living in the lap of Nature ;

                                     They leave their beasts beside their tents

                                     To wander and graze freely in the lawn ;

                                     At night sitting beside their fire

                                     Smoking their raw country cigars

                                     They chit-chat in their queer rustic cant

                                     And play upon their flutes and drums

                                     Old tunes and sing old stories steeped 

                                     In mysterious times of yore when knights

                                     In search of heavenly dames and demons

                                     Rode freely like these lads upon their steeds

                                     Through different climes and wooded terrains

                                     Conferring with strangers and sages mild ;

                                     And fought dire battles with horned giants wild.

                                                         =================

              3rd June, 2016                                             Somaseshu Gutala


            Note : This poem written in blank verse portrays a common scene in villages where donkeys are still used to carry heavy bags and luggage. The boys who drive them appear very active and enthusiastic. They shout and participate in their work without showing any feeling of boredom. The donkeys are also very patient, hard-working and meek in their behavior. They are uncomplaining and accept their lot in performing burdensome work. After the work they are let loose to graze on the wild grassy plain on the outskirts of the village where the vagrant boys live in make-shift tents. The boys enjoy their leisure and ride on donkeys with a sense of thrill just like knights in the fables of the past who rode on their horses to fight with demons and  protect ladies from the clutches of these cruel monsters. The boys spend the night happily sitting around fire and singing songs about ancient heroes and feel a sense of adventure even in their humble tasks. As Robert Frost beautifully said " The fact is the sweetest dream that labor knows."  In short enjoy your work and find happiness in whatever you do.