Bhai Phonta
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Bijay Kant Dubey
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The sister placing, putting up
A vermillion paste
On the forehead
Of the brother
And wishing him well
Invoking God
For his Godspeed.
But you my dear brother
Forget her not
Your small sister
In her harness,
Bad times,
So affectionate and lovely,
So sympathetic and emotional.
Keep you the honour of the phonta
That she has given
And you have taken,
The tears she has smeared with
Wetting the vermillion
An putting it
At the middle of the forehead.
Bu şiiri puanla
Henüz puan verilmemiş