BORN TO BE POOR

Born to mother poverty,
Ne’er am I left alone by her
Forever am I doomed to be poor
And my misery accompanies me eternally.
Not a day have I gone to sleep
Without a tear in my weary eye.
Sorrow and pain torture me
And little can I do, but weep in vain

My fortunate brother born in wealth ;
Gives me a morsel for my toil and sweat.
What is this morsel for my hunger?
Perhaps a little succor for a want—unquenched!
With hard-work turning me blue all over,
My reward still goes on due!

Oh God! What is that I ask from you?
Neither do I ask the wealth of my brother:
Nor do his riches endear me.
All that I ask is bread to feed,
And to go to bed with a stomach—well filled.
If this thy can’t grant, oh God;
Its better I lie for an eternal sleep!

~S.R. Vidhya~

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