(Pramada)
Ask him, dear ones, ask him,
Why he tricks me so –
Why the false smiles,
Why do the false tears flow!
I do not know the ways of love,
Foreboding has me under its sway –
Who knows where nectar might rain
Where might lurk deathly bane.
(Pramada’s friends)
They Know Not
They know not how to weep,
Only how to make you cry -
Why listen to their words
Nothing will come of these lies.
To play these games in the name of love –
To neglect souls, to deceive –
Let us depart while we still can,
Come, dear one, let us leave.
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