TEXT 129

TEXT 129

śuṣka bāṅśera lāṭhikhāna, eta kare apamāna,
ei daśā karila, gosāñi
nā sahi' ki karite pāri, tāhe rahi mauna dhari',
corāra māke ḍāki' kāndite nāi

Перевод

"This flute is nothing but a dry stick of bamboo, but it becomes our master and insults us in so many ways that it forces us into a predicament. What can we do but tolerate it? The mother of a thief cannot cry loudly for justice when the thief is punished. Therefore we simply remain silent.