It burnt everything
And it remained not anything
To be called of my mother,
Nothing, nothing, nothing,
Mother burnt to ashes.
Burnt, burnt to coal and ashes,
The fire-embers
I saw them
Sparkling from the ashes,
My mother burnt, burnt to ashes.
And they collected the navel
Burning like an earthen lamp
To be put into
An earthen pot
With the clay cover.
To protect it from the birds of prey
To be immersed into
The holy waters,
Ay, the asth-kalasha
Bearing the bhashma of my mother.
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