In sun and shower,
Under the golden sunshine
And the fair moonlight,
Grew she up,
A daughter of the hills,
In and around,
Encircling her.

Cut off from the wide world
And gaze of it,
Grew she up
As a wild flower
Unadmired and unappreciated,
A girl uninhibited
But laden under strictures.

At the herald of spring,
Sang you
Seeing the cuckoos singing
From the leafless
But in bloom
Palash and simul blossoms.

Sticking a palash bloom
Into her hair,
Danced she,
Sang she
Marking the change in season.

Under the shadow of the hills,
Grew she up,
A daughter of the hills,
Half-fed and half-clothed tribal girl,
Living a life of her own,
Taking boiled ice and its gruel
And palm juice and rotten rice beer.

Bijay Kant Dubey

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-daughter-of-the-hills-a-biography-of-a-santali-girl-the-song-of-the-santal-maiden/