Читать книгу When September Comes - Peter Jailall - Страница 11
ОглавлениеMy Ajah, handsome, strong and proud,
was an estate-bound, cane-cutting coolie.
Banging juice for the white sahib,
from sunrise to sunset.
The hot morning sun glittered
on his aluminum saucepan,
filled with cold dhal, rice and bhajee,
which he sanayed
with his hard, cane-field fingers,
pinching a red-hot tear-me-rass pepper
as hot as the morning sun.
