Wrote this short poem
Merry shall be the fields of Lanka
Worked once by ancient hands
Cows and buffoloes still tell stories
Their ancestors ploughed for the motherland
A richer soil has never been worked on
To plant even richer seeds
Ancient farmers still tell stories
Though dead for centuries
In its mountains in its valleys
Once grew many valiant trees
But nothing could ever try to conquer
The calm but majestic paddy fields
A great king once told the people
Not a drop will flow to the sea
Without first being used to water
The motherlands green paddy fields
Ancient Kings still shout out loudly
Louder than some want to hear
The happiest people in the world were and are
Those who work in paddy fields.
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