Kalpurusha, O Time - Keeper!
Without tears tears into the eyes of yours,
Man blanketing the dead,
Rolling over to burn the dead
Near the hilly rivulet
And you sitting on a rock,
By the old peepul or banyan tree,
Marking them burn,
Hang down the asthi-kalasha,
Doing panda-dana thereafter.
How, how long,
Will you keep doing as thus,
O, how, how long,
Will you go burning the dead?
Kalpurusha, may I ask,
Why, why are you so hard of heart,
How, how long,
Will you keep burying the dead,
The burden of the past?
O, blackly and obstinate,
The embodiment of time and tense,
Just like Yama, the God of death
Or it’s better to call him a messenger!
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