She rises with the crack of dawn,
Stifles a yawn but never complains,
Her wealth lies in her blood,
Her worth outweighs the finest rubies.
Her skin is a rich brown chocolate,
Baked in the sun and drenched by dew,
She knows nothing about tanning lotions,
But she’s the village beauty all the same.
Her day is twenty five hours long,
She knows no wage, break or union,
Her husband, home, children and cows,
Are the offices to which she reports.
She is both a lioness and a dove,
Breaks in an instance but heals as easily,
She rules in submission but has her own mind,
She’s the daughter of the great mountain.