The Bird's Complaint

I am constantly reminded of the bygone times Those garden's springs, those chorus of chimes Gone are the freedoms of our own nests Where we could come and go at our own pleasure My heart aches the moment I think Of the buds' smile at the dew's tears That beautiful figure, that Kamini's form Which source of happiness in my nest did form I do not hear those lovely sounds in my cage now May it happen that my freedom be in my own hands now! How unfortunate I am, tantalized for my abode I am My companions are in the home‐land, in the prison I am Spring has arrived, the flower buds are laughing On my misfortune in this dark house I am wailing God, To whom should I relate my tale of woe? I fear lest I die in this cage with this woe (grief) ! Since separation from the garden the condition of my heart is such My heart is waxing the grief, my grief is waxing the heart O Listeners, considering this music do not be happy This call is the wailing of my wounded heart O the one who confined me make me free A silent prisoner I am, earn my blessings free