When his wife died she, wept he bitterly
By the pyre of hers,
Taking the oath
As for becoming a sadhu
And remaining unmarried,
But the same man
Now planning to re-marry,
Dumping his small son and daughter,
Dyeing his beards and moustache
As for to look younger,
Marrying a girl
Half the age of his.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem