He promised he'd return tomorrow.
And I wrote everywhere on my floor:
'Tomorrow.'
The morning broke, when they all asked:
Now tell us, when will your 'Tomorrow' come?
Tomorrow, Tomorrow, where are you?
I cried and cried, but my Tomorrow never returned!
Vidyapati says: O listen, dear!
Your Tomorrow became a today
with other women.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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