Of the sweet smell of machine,
Of Blue Earth’s little noise;
Of that old man’s face so serene ,
Tears drop !!
Of the touch of the iron,
Of the days, forgotten and gone ,
Of the dark nooks of the pump,
I look like an outsider !!
Of the sweetness of sweat,
Of the sour rashes of the heat,
Of the bitterness of the pebbles,
The variegated Blue Earth!!
Of that old man who lives through the batches,
Meets the lovers, smiles and watches;
Of that old man to remember always,
Oh!! The memories !!
Of that blushing court that stares,
Of that sweet Blue Earth that cares,
Of that pebbles and green road that lay in between,
Hear the wonder dance of the machines!!
Let me be that dark corner,
Where bleeds the rough fingers,
Where the unwanted love still lingers,
Let me be the dirt of Blue Earth !!
Of that deserted pump which remains a virgin,
Of the arena’s loss and win,
Of that spared kiss which bloom in dirt,
Of the mesmerizing Blue Earth !!
Of the muddy shelter in summer rain,
Of that careless life without pain;
Of that unwanted love, too sweet to bear,
Of that Blue Earth which knows everything!!
Of the idyllic humor of the dark stair,
Of the tools, ‘mechers’ would hardly care;
Of the lazy gossips and idle feet,
Oh!! The Blue Earth !!
Of the sudden vernal smell of machine,
Of the epics, the Blue Earth wants to sing,
Of the whispers long foretold ,
Oh!! The elegant Blue Earth !!