In a village where time gently flows, Where nature’s charm in every corner grows, Little Kanna, pure and bright, Basks in the day’s warm, golden light.
A kid so tender, by his side, With mischief and with joy they bide, Their hearts entwined, in playful cheer, A bond that draws all creatures near.
Kanna’s laugh, a melody sweet, Echoes through the village street, With peacock fans and gentle doves, In Kanna’s realm, all know his love.
The bracelets on his tiny hand, A village craft so simply grand, Reflects the hues of fields so green, A touch of grace in every scene.
In lands where Krishna tales are spun, Of cows and calves and setting sun, Kanna’s tale, a mirror bright, Of friendship pure in morning light.
His hands do graze the kid’s soft coat, As whispers of the past do float, Reminding all of days of yore, When gods and men walked paths before.
So in this village, lives a song, Of Kanna, where he does belong, With every creature, great and small, A love that binds and conquers all.
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