Amid the storey buildings,
Amid the marble lanes;
Silence wrapped a yellow quarter,
Of good Bansals so gay.
The sky was dark,
The wind was cold;
Cold was too that day,
For Death had snatched,
From Bansals kind,
A loving member of age.
A lady she was,
Kind and wise,
Of age seventy-three;
Her flesh and soul,
For long had borne,
Time never-ending scorn.
This year had something peculiar,
Too weak and lean, had become our dear;
So broke her soul its earthly bondage,
And her body fell to the floor.
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In poured the loving,
All friends, all sibling,
With humid eyes and heavy hearts;
A toll too great,
This was my mate,
The loss of a mother,
A guide, a philosopher.
We covered her body,
With a shroud,
We laid her on the floor;
And as do demand,
The customs old,
Performed our services, to the cold.
We wept and wept,
All through the night,
And yet could not, stem the flow.
But life in end,
Alone must must follow,
The path it chose to go.
I could not then,
Submit to it,
Good memories, asked me to stay,
From grief and gloom I tried my best,
Yet I couldn’t stay away.
So goes the tale of this elegy,
That after some twenty days,
I had to follow the usual course,
Though laiden I was with great remorse.
That day I learnt,
To live my life,
And, not to fear that day;
When I shall but,
Lie on the floor,
Serene and cold, even in May.
Death will come,
When it has to come,
It is a definite end.
Then why do fear,
Or cry my dear,
Even for those who went….
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