I'm Not Calling You Mother Anymore
Ramprasad Sen

I'm not calling you Mother anymore.
You've given me such agony,
and keep giving me more.
I used to be a happy householder.
You've made me into a crazy ascetic.
What else can you do to me, Wild-Haired One?
I'd go from house to house
and beg my food,
rather than call you Mother,
or come to your arms,
or sit in your lap again.
I kept calling "Mother, Mother,"
but Mother, your eyes didn't see
and your ears didn't hear.
Can any other misfortune matter
when a son suffers like an orphan
with his mother still there?