The End.

                                                                        

It is time for me to go, mother; I am going.

When in the paling darkness of the lonely dawn
you stretch your arms for your baby in the bed,
I shall say, "Baby is not there!"

- mother, I am going.

I shall become a delicate draught of airand caress you; and I shall be ripples 
u and kiss you again.
in the water when you bathe;
and kiss y
o
In the gusty night when the rain patters on the leaves
you will hear my whisper in your bed,
ghtning
through the open window into your roo
and my laughter will flash with the l
im.

If you lie awake, thinking of your baby till late into the night,I shall sing to you form the stars, "Sleep, mother, sleep."

e upon your bosom while you sleep.
On the straying moonbeams I shall steal over your bed,
and l
i
I shall become a dream, and through the little opening
of your eyelids I shall slip into the depths of your sleep;
and when you wake up and look round startled,
 the darkness.

like a twinkling firefly I shall flit out int
oWhen, on the great festival of PUJA,
the neighbours' children come and play about the house,
I shall melt into the music of the flute

and throb in your heart all day
.

Dear suntie will come with your PUJA presents and will ask,
"Where is our baby, sister? Mother you tell her softly,
ul."
"He is in the pupils of my eyes,
he is my body and my s
o

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