A Ballad Poem by Thrity Bharucha

A Ballad

A girl came walking down the shore,
The river raged and roared.
She knelt down low, her face implied,
She was praying to the Lord.

Said she, "My mother! Take me home!
I wish to live no more! "
Her agony wrenched the river's soul -
"This life I can't endure! "

"My love is gone - my life is lost.
What reason I to be?
Can a flower in a desert bloom?
Life's finished now for me."

The river seemed to hear her words,
The little wavelets rose.
They touched her heels and wet her calves,
Played with her dainty toes.

Tears flowed now down her cheeks,
And mingled with the foam.
The water-wraith now much enraged,
Came wailing from its home.

She walked a little deeper now,
Into the river's lap;
The tears washed away her youth -
The waves did seem to wrap -

A liquid mantle round her being,
She went deeper - deeper now;
The surging waves grew passionate,
And pushed her till she bowed.

The last that anyone could see,
Was but a hand outstretched;
Round which there shone a golden ring,
For which she laid to rest.

The river then grew peaceful,
The frothing waters died.
The river sparkled in the sun,
The dying wavelets sighed.

And oft upon a lonely night,
A girl comes down the shore;
The river shivers at her wail:
"This life I can't endure! "



Thrity E. Bharucha