“Loss of mother is death of the child”
No compensation can make up the loss
All privileges of childhood are denied to him
All eyes will be blind to his tears
All ears will be deaf to his sobs
No father nor a brother can be a mother
Everybody loves the dead many fold
Nobody cares the child survives:
To love the dead is not expensive!
To love the living is not lucrative!
No use to mourn over spilt milk
Yet a wish is kept close to my bosom
To get you in all my births as my mother
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