![Before Death (Mrityu-r Agey)]()
We who have walked deserted stubble fields on a December evening,
Who have seen over the field's edge a soft river woman scattering
Her fog flowers-they all are like some village girls of old-
We who have seen in darkness the akanda tree, the dhundul plant
Filled with fireflies, the moon standing quietly at the head of
An already harvested field-she has no yearning for that harvest;
We who have lived in the darkness of a long winter's night, who have
Heard wings flutter on a thatched roof in captivating night-