Read the following poem.
In the Bazaars of Hyderabad
Richly your wares are displayed.
Turbans of crimson and silver,
Tunics of purple brocade,
Mirror with panels of amber,
Daggers with handles of jade.
What do you weigh, O ye vendors?
Saffron and lentil and rice
What do you grind, O ye maidens?
Sandalwood, henna, and spice.
What do you call,, O ye peddlers?
Chessman and ivory dice.
What do you make, O ye goldsmiths?
Wristlets and anklets and ring,
Bells for the feet of blue pigeons
Frail as a dragonfly’s wing,
Girdles of gold for dancers,
Scabbards of gold for the king.
What do you cry, O ye fruitmen?
Citron, pomegranate, and plum.
What do you play, O ye magicians?
Spells for aeons to come.
What do you weave, O ye flowergirls
With tassels of azure and red?
Crowns for the brow of a bridegroom,
Chaplets to garland his bed,
Sheets of white blossoms new-garnered
To perfume the sleep of the dead.
- Sarojini Naidu