Farmer Brother

The scorching heart of

Summer is a game for us

And it is not for anyone.

Uninterrupted rainfall,

It is time to dump her

And move on to fever time.

But there is no time to

Breathe for anyone else.

In the winter, while we are

Playing with the fire,

But he plays with the earth.

The hard fruit of hard work

He gives us plenty of harvests.

He is the backbone of our

Country and nation.

Either his selfless service

Or own selfless sacrifice.

Blessed is your labor

And blessed is your life.

O benevolent our

Farmer brother,

We are grateful to you.