Hare Rama,
Rama-Rama
In a very slow voice,
Voice of their own,
The morose souls,
Frail and weak spirits
Singing,
Singing the song of Rama,
HareRama,
Rama-Rama.
I heard,
Heard the song
Sung silently
In whispers,
The song of the soul,
The liberated spirit,
The psyche in trouble,
I heard them
And felt pity for
The voices aligning,
The spirits whispering,
The souls praying,
Singing the song of Rama,
Hare Rama, Rama-Rama.
The distressed souls
Singing,
Singing the song
Of Rama,
Hare Rama, Rama-Rama,
They asking for not,
But the half-fed, half-clothed
Morose and maligned souls
And spirits seemed to be in pain,
Pain, but said they it not,
Went on singing,
Singing the song,
The song of Rama,
Hare Rama, Rama-Rama.
They asked for not,
But they seemed to be praying,
The dead and gone spirits,
The bereaved voices,
Souls and spirits praying,
Praying,
Asking it not for food,
But singing,
Singing the song of Rama,
Rama-Rama, Hare Rama,
Rama-Rama, asking it not
And having sung vanishing they,
Vanishing far into the gloom
Just like the voices never heard before.