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My village
The mountains rich in stone,
The meadows full of grass,
The fields replete with wheat,
Beyond them is a river.
Across from it the village
With church and rows of gravestones,
And standing all around it
Are humble, tiny houses.
Frigid is the water,
The wind blows, but no matter,
The nightingale proclaims it:
Gazelle-like are the women.
Lying in the shade, men
Playing, busy chatting,
Misfortune cannot strike them,
For they're living off their women.
Women in the fields, and
In the vineyards, women,
Women harvest hay, all
Day and night a-toiling.
Women do the threshing,
Reap the harvest, women,
Leaving before sunrise,
After dark returning!
For their husbands, women
Scorch out in the sunshine,
Working, never resting
Not even on a Sunday!
Poor Albanian woman,
All the time a-slaving,
And when homeward's wending,
Makes both lunch and supper.
What about your husband
Lounging by the fountain?
Oh, my wretched woman,
You run, too, the household!
Andon Zako Çajupi
For To Reclaim The Night
They march uptown for to reclaim the night
Carrying lighted candles and small battery hand lights
Their peaceful protest for basic human right
And in solidarity you will find much might.
They march for women house bound after dark
Who after sundown shun the street and park
Who bolt their doors a shield against their fear
The fear of danger to them ever near.
They march for women for a crime free life
For the rape victim and the battered wife
And for women wronged by men in every way
Such cases as we read of every day.
When Emily Pankhurst at Epsom race track died
Her sacrifice for women World wide
From there the fight for women's rights began
For all those suffering at the hands of man.
The anti women libbers well might say
That women nowadays have things their own way
But women still victims of rape and foul play
Such stories in newspapers every day.
And till women after sundown leave their home
And without fear walk unlit street alone
Then women must march to reclaim the night
And protest for a basic human right.
Francis Duggan
Woman
Woman is the mother and
Symbol of love empathy
And patience.
Man is created from woman
And woman is worshiping
As God mother.
Woman is nature and
greatest strength lies
In innate motherhood.
Mother is creative and
Mother has life-giving power
Mother, mother and mother.
Woman-mother and mother-woman
Is not a pleasure-giving object
Let us come and give her respect.
Failing to give due respect
Means invitation to our own
Destruction in our own abject.
gajanan mishra
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