ఊరికి చివరన

On the outskirts of the village,A profession turned into a livelihood,To pass the time,And to hold onto life.

Roaming through the village,Searching from village to village,Setting traps, running after them,Holding our breath,Leaping and chasing,We whistle as we roam.

Eating boiled horse gram,Sharing our stories,With weary faces, we came to your village.

Unexpectedly,Parrots from this villageAre luring and entertaining us,But when we set the traps,They leap away,They just fly and fly,They don't get caught in the trap.We sigh and turn back,The parrots of your village are clever.