A SANJHI POEM: FOLK FESTIVAL OF HARYANA The soil is rich, the seeds are sown, The Sanjhi spirit now has grown. We honour earth, the dark and deep, While promises of harvest keep. The feminine, a sacred light, That turns the darkness into bright. In every woman, mother, friend, The powers of the earth ascend. With clay and dung upon the wall, We answer to the season's call. A Sanjhi image, shaped with care, A prayer rising through the air. We sing to her, the life-source root, For golden grain and rich, ripe fruit. To peasants who protect the land, We reach out with a helping hand. Prosperity in heaps of gold, And stories of the spirit told. We dance beneath the open sky, Where ancient faith will never die. From humble earth to spirit’s grace, We bow before the goddess’ face. In every field, in every heart, The cycle makes a brand new start.