II
The one is taken who might be of use!
The one is taken who might be of use!
The one whose work is over does remain,
The mother, like a withered broom tree left,[66]
In whose mind comes and goes his likeness dear,
As things are wont in this uncertain world.
To man at any moment may come grief,
Like heartless storm that shatters blooming boughs
The voice of such a storm has called up clouds
That fly unsettled and have hid the moon
That else had lit the long night of her life.
Yea, verily how fleeting must the world
Appear to her before us now. Alas!
Yea, verily how fleeting must the world
Appear to her before us now. Alas!
FERRYMAN [Words]
Now, however much thou grievest, ’tis of no avail whatever;
Join then with us in the prayer for his good in future worlds.
[Song]
The moon has risen, and the river breeze
Blows cool. ’Tis late already, and the gong
Tolls out, and we should be upon our knees.[67]
THE MOTHER [Song]
But still the mother in her agony
No prayer can voice, but only weeping lie
Upon the ground that hides her darling joy.
FERRYMAN [Words]
Yea! ’tis sorrowful, though others have assembled in large numbers,
It is thy prayer that his spirit surely would rejoice to hear.