Countless springs have passed away,
And,
The immortal summer and fiercest sun
conspires to burn the life,
budding inside the womb.
The mother is crying
with fear and insufferable pain,
Eyes filled with tears,
She collapses in a dead faint,
Here comes the loving son,
Carrying a speech of condolence
and a short verse in praise
for, only she cries
Bravado, not dies.
(कड़ी निंदा कब तक)
