0 father come let us go
To the field to plough,
Place the ploughs on oxen shoulders
and Push, push, push.
We who bring out food
From the depth of earth,
We who provide food for the whole world
Why can't we eat can any one tell us ?
My wife has hanged herself
She could no longer bear hunger,
Now I plough deep into soil
In hope of seeing her again.
We plough the fields
Our bosom is also flayed
But from the fields we get harvest
None from the scarred bosom.
We shall plough no more the earth for rice
But to see how far it is to the graves.
-Jasim Uddin (A popular folk song in Bengal- HMV record. Kolkata)