“Behind the thickets and the thick greens,

Coming down from the bend in the hills,

Lay the gentle quiet stream;


Thick grass went right up till its banks,

And leafy boughs hung low on its flanks;

A water hen with her chicks glided upstream,

And myriad birds sang many a dream;


One could lie on the grass by its side,

Or dangle feet in water sparkling in light,

And be soothed in soft melodious lores,

With memories swept to distant shores;


After thirty years I visited the place again,

And found instead a barren dusty drain,

With bulldozers smashing and spades hurling,

Where once had lain the gentle stream”


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