Watching the children walking along the road to and fro their schools
My heart leaps high wishing to join their merry-making, cheerful funs
Realising I am not made of flesh and blood my poor heart retreats in dismay
Here on the veranda of this textile shop I have been in deep penance for long
My master will return once with added vigour: death is a temporary absence

************
There lies on the veranda of the textile shop the old sewing machine,
Rusty, dusty and untidy awaitinga successor to the bereaved old tailor
On my way to the school I had seen the old tailor always busy behind it
With a lighted cigar between his lips and totally lost in his work
So skilled a tailor was he that he was liked by all his customers
Sleepless nights and restless days made his creations famous around
Freshness smelling dresses he made might have enchanted childre
Bridal robes he designed might have added undefined beauty to bride
College girls in his fashion stitching might have scored much from friends
He is no more and the machine lies there as the monument of his artifice