indian weavers poem in english

Weavers, Weaving at breack of day,

Why so you weave a garment so gay?

We weave the robes of a new born child.

Weavers, weaving at fall of night,

Why do you weave a garment so bright?

Like the plumes of a peacock, purple and green,

We weave the marrige-veils og a queen.

Weavers, weaving solemn and still,

What so you weave in the moon-light chill?

White as a feather and white as a cloud,

We weave a dead man’s funrel shroud.

–Sarojjni Naidu

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