And yet, I too suffer at the thought of your separation
Looking at you lie here pitiably
Aren’t we the same, aren’t we brothers?
Oh flower, didn’t the very same hands create all of us?
Return now, my eyes,
scorching and fading,
turning into sand dust, this flower obliterates today,
Think of it, this predicament awaits all and sundry,
Of what use are these tears?
This worldly life, just dreams and sorrow.
(Translated from the Tamil translation (Poet Sukumaran) of the Malayalam Original ‘Veena Poovu’ (1907) by Poet Kumaran Asan)