Manan Das's poem begins with a picture of the earth as it once was: black soil resting deep underground, covered with trees, grasses, creepers and bushes, and wrapped in clean air, which the speaker calls "God's sacred breath." Then greedy people arrive. They clear the woods and keep digging, because the deeper they go, the richer the soil and the greater the power they gain. The speaker describes this as tearing apart a "graceful womb," which makes the damage feel personal, almost like a violation of a mother.
What remains is bleak: lumps of black soil, no plants at all, and dusty, "piteous" air hanging over the ground. The poem ends with a quiet kind of fear. Far off, the woods on the blue hills tremble, wondering when their turn will come, while a thin, weak stream cries as it flows.
The speaker sounds sorrowful and angry, but also anxious. The mood moves from calm beauty to loss and then to dread about what is still to come.