(Translated by the poet from his Hindi lyric)
Why did I get this woman’s body?
Ever feeling love’s unfulfilled throb
Why didn’t the Creator make me, my Lord!
A peacock-feather, a flute or a robe!
Had I been a peacock-feather
You would’ve placed me on your head
If flute, I would have kissed your lips
And danced with you in Kadamba’s shade
Ah! If I were your golden wrap
Wouldn’t I clasp you in tight embrace?
Soothe your heart with loving care
And live with you in heavenly grace
What is the use of being a woman?
And not a feather, a flute, or a robe
The gods criss-crossed my path of love
I woefully look at my life and sob