Translated from original Marathi by Jerry Pinto and Neela Bhagwat
How much death, how much weeping.
Who is that laughing on the sly?
We look and we wonder: what is truth?
And why so many pining for a lie?
What is death? What is grieving?
At whom do we aim our thoughtless laughter?
Who has been spared? Who is leaving?
Our fate is common in the hereafter.
Soyra says: I find it odd
Not one among them remembers God.