Smoke from funeral pyres darkens skies
Of Gujarat, whose earthquake victims' cries
Ring out from parched throats in agony
So great, so bitter the calamity!
The western part of the subcontinent
Gujarat, Bhuj, - the deadly earthquake rent.
The panorama of destructions rolls
On our screens and stuns the minds and souls.
O Lord have merci! - pity Gujarat!
Its helpless victims and their rescue squad
Attempting to extract the trapped and dead;
Or those whose life is hanging on a thread.
Three hundred fifty children on parade;
India's 51st Republic to celebrate
But now wood logs are fetched for funeral pyres
Decease is checked by the consuming fires.
They build them, - spent, exhausted and in haste,
Uniting ranks and lineage, class and caste.
We pray O Lord - do take away the sting
Of so much pain and innocent suffering!
So much bereavement, pain and bitter loss;
Halt Lord, we pray, - the work of Thanatos!
Have pity Lord! and in your mercy deign
To lift them up into the Father's reign!
Transform the sufferers tears to jewels bright
So infinitely precious in your sight.
