My dear village well

a poem by Bahadur Basha Gooty

The Well has dried
My dear Well has dried
Teenage girls Sprinkle water on friends
Lovers romance as usual
Hundreds of hamlet’s life line, you
The first cock crows
Naganna’s pot has sinking
You are the Kocchervu’s river Tunga
If drinks our well water
Prowess overflowing

In rainy season
Confluence with tank water
Looks like Spring.
Anointed to Lord Shiva,
You had meaningful origin.
At the time of Sri Ramanavami
She has been Paints with rainbow,
At Wedlock time…
Worshiped you
When children swim in her,
It forgets the universe.

My friend well dried
Because of selfish bore wells
Her springs dried
Remained as barren women
People are sad that they have lost their own sister

By the grace of the god
Restored with spring water
Like it will never get dry
Smile has appeared again in our village faces