I see a person whose eyes are flooded with tears,
And those tears are shed for the deceased of his beloved,
The years they lived together still ring in the memory of the living,
Yet those memories can't bring back the deceased to life.
There are hundreds thronged about the shrouded body,
All have veiled their faces with wails and moans,
Sighs and groans reverberate around the breathless body,
Floral tributes are laid unto the inert frame,
All they do might be out of their closeness with the deceased,
And these weird practices have the universal code,
Wherein ceremonies and rituals are performed.
In a corner I stand with my eyes hanging down,
Two or three tear drops flow down my cheeks,
And I know why I don't know why I weep for the deceased,
May be of affinity; May be of empathy;
May be of sympathy; be of mystery bond;
May be of human knot; be of compassion,
I too weep awhile, and while I weep,
My reason traverses through my mind,
And seeks why I lament over the deceased one
When I too will leave this world on my day fixed,
For those who are born on earth shall die one day,
Yet, all we are born have learnt the worldly bond,
In likes and dislikes the journey of life struggles,
The world's lamentation is not for the deceased one,
But those wails and groans are breathed out for the knitted bond - -
The knitted bond between us and the deceased one.
I cannot lament over my own death,
And so, I lament over my fellow-being's departure.
And all I learnt is why I shouldn't lament over a deceased one.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem