A king had four queens,
Comparable by no means,
In their in-born intelligence
And their royal appearance.
More he loved the last queen,
The youngest and robust one,
And the rest got less importance
In the order of his preference.
As years passed, he became old.
Their hands, he couldn’t hold.
At last, his final moment came.
Highly emotional he then became.
He called first, the last queen.
And said, “My dear, you’ve seen
Close to you, how I’ve been,
When I was fresh and green.”
“Will you come with me,
When the Death takes me,
For I gave you all my love,
And without you I can’t leave.”
She said, “Sorry, My dear,
I’ll keep you in my prayer.
I can’t, after your death,
Leave this, my mother earth, ”
He asked next his third one.
She said, “I wish to remain
In the hands your successor,
Who can fulfill my every desire.”
He then asked the second one.
She told, “I’m still your queen.
I’ll follow Your Majesty
Until you reach the cemetery.”
The first one, he looked at.
His mouth remained shut.
He had no words to speak,
As he became still weak.
The first queen told, “Oh dear,
I belong to you only forever.
I’ll come with you wherever
You command me to be there.”
He was surprised to hear
Soothing words from her.
Though in his love-list
Always she remained the last.
Here, body is the last queen,
One’s wealth is the third one,
Friends, relatives being the second,
Always “Soul” remains unfound.
Rajaram Ramachandran
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/what-remains-one-s-own/
