MY FETTERS, you made music in my heart. I played with you all day long and made you my ornament. We were the best of friends, my fetters. There were times when I was afraid of you, but my fear made me love you the more. You were companions of my long dark night, and I make my bow to you, before I bid you good-bye, my fetters.
WHEN OUR farewell moment came, like a low-hanging rain cloud, I had only time to tie a red ribbon on your wrist, while my hands trembled. Today I sit alone on the grass in the season of mahua flowers, with one quivering question in my mind, 'Do you still keep the little red ribbon tied on your wrist?' You went by the narrow road that skirted the blossoming field of flax. I saw that my garland of overnight was still hanging loose from your hair. But why did you not wait till I could gather, in the morning, new flowers for my final gift? I wonder if unaware it dropped on your way,-the garland hanging loose from your hair. Many a song I had sung to you, morning and evening, and the last one you carried in your voice when you went away. You never tarried to hear the one song unsung I had for you alone and for ever. I wonder if, at last, you are tired of my song that you hummed to yourself while walking through the field.
FREE ME AS free are the birds of the wilds, the wanderers of unseen paths. Free me as free are the deluge of rain, and as the storm that shakes its locks and rushes on to its unknown end. Free me as free is the forest fire, as is the thunder that laughs aloud and hurls defiance to darkness.
