Baby Dying
Dr. Ramesh Kumar Gupta
Baby! nine
months old
To laugh and
sight but graced
Bore the
pangs of uncured wound
parents mov’d
for her cure
But in
vain-Baby no more.
Yet, your
tender and lovely face
Moves in the
mind, never omits
The moment
which you passed
In my lap,
your smiling face
Moves in the
mind, never omits
The moment
which you passed
In my lap,
your smiling face
left a scar-
a residue keepsake
your eyelid’s
open appears
A flitting
soul, a phantom face
Everything
unreal and transitory
Sound sleep
under the dark terrain
Now no
rapport with earthly beings
A farewell to
you; though the change’s on.
(This
touching poem is a spontaneous outpouring of the soul-a personal tragedy -Ed.)