O mother, <br />Tell me mother! <br />What should I do <br />In this widowed season? <br />Tell me <br />What should I do <br />In this season of loss? <br /> <br />The trees are leafless in this season, <br />Without fragrance. <br />The sun of my happiness has no warmth, <br />In this season. <br />But even more bitter <br />Is my youth that is widowed, <br />Tell me, <br />What should I do <br />With this bitter youth? <br /> <br />My pain has let its hair grow out <br />In this season <br />It has worn the milky white clothes of sorrow, <br />Kept the fast, not sung a song. <br />Tell me <br />Where can I drown myself, <br />In this season? <br />What should I do <br />In this widowed season? <br /> <br />O mother! <br />To whom can I attach myself in this season? <br />Who can I touch with these contaminated limbs? <br />At whose righteous door can I plant this sapling? <br />O woe! <br />What flowers can I shower upon it? <br />Mother, <br />Tell me mother <br />O mother, <br />Tell me mother! <br />What should I do <br />In this widowed season? <br />Tell me <br />What should I do <br />In this season of loss?<br /><br />Shiv Kumar Batalvi<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/vidhva-rut/
