Okram Shakuntala
The sorrow is not ending
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The night is
never ending
The sorrow
is not mending
Ending not
just the words
Tbe time is
fast moving
The mind is
often crying
Crying in
garden the buds (1)
Dreams are
moaning
The mate is
feigning
Feigning the
land too
Hope is
often passing
Thought is
much rushing
Brushing the
whole plot to (2)
Matters are
buzzing
To find
someone sneezing
Buzzing the
often grass
The life is
crying
The heart is
crying
Smashed the
feeling in rush (3)
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