A farmer has to toil hard,
From the morn till evening.
He awakes early in morning,
Without rest he works till evening.
He tills irrigates and harvest his crops,
With gaily mood that never flops.
He survives with his family,
On the faith of his crops.
Facing drought, heavy rain,
Hurricanes, and pouring heavy hail stones.
Natural disasters he often face,
But weariness in him, you can’t trace.
He prays to God both the time,
In the dawn and the dusk prime.
His joys from his face never fade,
Either his crops are lost in insects invade.
I praise the farmer with a humble mind,
Who feed us all without claim and pride.
He believes in God providence,
I ever praise him with reverence.