The Hindu’s Lament
The mourning cries of an Indian for his wife.
As I passed a lonely temple in the after-evening glow,
On the banks of the Ganges where the quiet waters flow,
When the sun had sunk to rest and cool softness touched the air,
I saw a dark-skinned Indian and I heard him chant this prayer:
Bhagwan! Bhagwan! (O God! O God!)
You have snatched away my lantern,
I am left without a light,
My feet now tread in darkness,
Where once it all was bright.
Can I endure my life
When my dear, dear wife
Is ashes, Bhagwan?
Bhagwan! Bhagwan!
He raised his hands to heaven then he bowed down to the ground,
He wept in aching sorrow with no whisper of a sound;
I heard the water lapping where the river met the sands;
He rose from off the flagstones and again stretched forth his hands.
Bhagwan! Bhagwan!
You have snatched away my lantern,
My light of life is gone,
My heart will be in darkness
Where once she brightly shone.
Can I endure my life
When my dear, dear wife
Is ashes, Bhagwan?
Bhagwan! Bhagwan!
My heart brimmed bitter sadness as I left the temple shrine,
The pain of that poor Indian was soul-wedged into mine.
And still do I remember, though the years have passed me by,
The hands outstretched to heaven and the anguish in that cry:
Bhagwan! Bhagwan!
Whale, I have been to India on a number of occasions – so I was drawn to this poem..
It is very sad and very well expressed – without careful reading it would be easy to think both verses were the same.
gerry
Thank you, Gerry. It’s the Indian’s cry so it would be similar. I wrote it initially when I was about 18 or 19 years old when my father lost my mother (who was only 35 years old) and left my brother and me adrift. It was my way of showing how my Dad felt. It has undergone a lot of editing since then because it is close to my heart. I’m very glad it moved you. It was what I intended to do to my readers.
This poetry cannot help but stir emotions. Beautifully composed, I enjoyed the read, if one can say that about something that emotional. To find after reading your reply to Gerry how personal it was, explained everything.
I loved it.
Mike
Thanks, Mike. Just to clarify. I am a Jew of Iraqi descent, fourth generation born in India. I grew up there, went to school there, worked there for four years before emigrating to the U.K. I stayed there 10 years before taking my new wife and baby to Israel. We had two sabra sons (born in Israel like the sabra cactus) and have lived here for just about half a century. I used the Indian as a sort of metaphor for my father – and perhaps for me too. Our mourning prayers are different and please don’t ask me why… Read more »
I thought this was beautifully tragic. Lyrical, expressive, poignant. Everything poetry should be.
blessings,
Jolen
Thanks Jolen. Who could ask for a better critique? From the above remarks, I am prouder of it than I ever was before.