At eighteen years of his age,
It was time for his marriage.
He married Parvathi, a girl
Who was young and simple.
A perfect match she was
As she was also pious
Like the Saint, her husband,
Whose heart was so kind
One day, his father returned
From the street rounds tired,
He couldn’t do his prayer,
As he knew his end was near.
He called his son and said,
“Oh my son, I’m now tired.
To His abode, Rama invites me.
I’ll be no more for you to see.”
“Follow our ancient tradition.
Continue our noble profession.
Rama will bless you always.
He’ll answer all your prayers.”
From his eyes, tears flowed.
For the last time, he hugged
His son, the noble saint,
And then breathed his last.
Saint Thyagaraja caught,
His father’s feet and wept,
Having lost that fondly touch
What his father gave very much.
Soon after the last rites,
It was time for the deities
To be taken for ownership
For their daily worship.
Jalpesan showed no sign
Nor was very much keen,
So, the saint took the deities
And did his daily prayers.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The parting of the Saint from his father is very graceful and poignant. Handled with great sensitivity, Rajaram. Always your friend, Sandra