There Dies Living God Poem by Dhal Bahadur Jirel

Far in the east, there in the city of gods
Yes, in the city of temples and hermitage
Right there on the busy and holy street
In the chilling winter morning
Nude body, bare feet, under the open haven
Blown hither and thither
With unbearable suffering
Almost shivering
Alas, crying and wailing
A beggar raises his hands
'Mercy on me, mercy on my daughter.
She is containing the last breath
There in the hotel dieu
When I left for your help
She had embraced me with her hands
And had told to save her life
I have to keep my promises
Oh, for the sake of my sparrow
Kindly help me.'

People come and people go
A man stops by him and proudly says,
'Cursed be you oh poor sinner
For almighty gods forsake you
For they condemned you
For your dark deeds
And made you to live life of hell
Lo, untouchable man, I know you
Stop throwing odor onto me
Stop ruining the peace of public.'

The man reaches the hotel dieu
And rushes to the doctor and says,
'The amount will be ready by tomorrow
Say my heart will be saved
Say my tear will be wiped.'
The doctor shakes his head and says,
'You are too late
She is no more.'

Ah...the man wails in great despair
Runs to the bed and hugs his child
Echoes of sobbing loud quakes the earth
Tremor of his pain shakes glory of heaven.
I long to mitigate
The mockery of pain poverty and scarcity
But I too am suffered
Oh, merciless holy savages
There reign your lifeless idols
And here dies living god
In the city of temples and in the city of gods.