O, singer, singer of Rama,
Called I, called I from far
And paused he
Standing far
Singing,
Singing the song,
The song of Rama
A poor distraught and devastated soul,
A poor and humble a spirit
He went singing,
Singing,
But stopped he
Though went I on hearing,
Hearing him
But could not,
Could not view him
Before he came nearer to me!
Tears were in his eyes,
What I could,
Could see from far
A poor soul standing
Like a shadowy figure,
A poor spirit in distress
He was weeping,
Weeping and singing the song,
The song of Rama,
Oh, he was weeping and singing,
Singing and weeping,
They also sing,
Sing the song,
The song of Rama
Who say in whispers,
In whispers slowly
The things of their hearts,
Their hearts,
They also sing,
Sing!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem