She raises her eyes up to the skies, And moans from inside her soul; Her lips part to utter those lies, Yet again, playing a role. She stretches her hand to reach out to him, And pulls him up by his hand; Her face now soft and not at all grim, Like the vastness of the sand. Come on, my baby, she gently cries, As she quickly pulls him up; We’ll fetch the water and cook some rice, And you shall eat till you burp! The woman, she walks in the heat, Toting her earthen pot, She walks for miles dragging her feet, Across the sands, never cursing her lot! Bracing her feet and bearing the heat, I see her walk everyday, Carrying out her eternal feat Of fetching water day by day!