Poems

This is the first night
Dry flour is scattered
on the ground
She will come
she will come
she will set foot [and]
she will go
We shall sleep
we shall sleep
even in mourning we shall sleep
She will see (look)
She will see (look)
she will not see (look at) us afterwards
We shall pluck
we shall pluck
in the morning we shall pluck our hair
She will stop
she will stop
in midway she will stop
We shall forget
we shall forget
in this very sorrow we shall forget