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________________ Q THE INDIAN ANTIQUARY (JANUARY, 1915. 4. A girl asks her brother for a gift. Bahin-Ka ki, kâ ki, re bîra, lål kamân; Sister.-Brother who has a red bow, Kaui bhaid khelen ge gendri. And plays at ball. Ramchandra ki lál kamân; (My brother has)a red bow like Ramchandra's; Lachhman bhaia, khale gendri. My brother Lachhman plays at ball. Khelat, khelat, re bira, ho gài saijh; In playing brother, evening has come Bahnen thârî hain dwâr par. And thy sisters stand (begging) at the door. Bhai.Bendul mângâi hoe, sci mâng leo, Brother.-(sister) ask of me your request, Jo man ichchha hoe, Whatever wish is in your mind Bahin.-Bhâiâ jîman ko thâr jo lihon, Sister. I would have the dish in which my brother eats, Bhaujâî piwái ko gadwa And the water-jar from which my brother's wife drinks, 5. A girl's song. Laik-Deolâ de re mere ne, bhaia badbâi. Girl.-Friend carpenter, give me a cradle. Bailai,-Kaho ko alan garo ? Kahe ko Carpenter.-Of what should I make the pâlan garo ? posts? Of what the body? Kahe ki modon kil? Of what should I fashion the nails ? Larki.-Sone ko alan gâro; sone ko pâlan Girl.-Of gold you must make the posts, gáro; and of gold the body; Rupe kî niodo kil. The nails fashion from silver. Laiki apne bhaia ko: Yâ par, mere bhaia, Girl to brother.-Dear brother, lie in this ; pochio, De sir sone ko top. And wear your cap of gold, Bâlar se bhitar gae ki mat len; (My brother) went inside to ask his mother's advice : "Kaha jo deûn biâhin ko ? Kaha kuiwarii "What (says he) shall I give the married ko ? women and what to the girls ?" Mata,Kuiwarîu dije chunri. Mother.- To the girls give chunris. Kakulâ dai pardes; Kakula bicharo, kya kare? Biran dai pardes; Bîran bicharo, kya kare? Mere karam dai pardes; Karam bicharo, kya kare? Mere bhåg likho pardes. Kaghaj hoe, tâhe bâichie ; Karam na bâi che aii. Pitar hoi, tâhe badaliye; Karam na badle, jâii. Kûuata hoe, tâhe pâti; Karam na pâte jậen. My uncle gave me to a foreign land, But my uncle is not to blame. My brother gave me to a foreign land, But my brother is not to blame, My past (merit) consigned me to a foreign land, But my past is not to blame, My fate had the foreign land written in it. A written paper one may read, But one's destiny cannot be read. Even brass you can mould, But fate you cannot alter. Even a well can be filled up, But you cannot fill in your own fate.
SR No.032536
Book TitleIndian Antiquary Vol 44
Original Sutra AuthorN/A
AuthorRichard Carnac Temple, Devadatta Ramkrishna Bhandarkar
PublisherSwati Publications
Publication Year1984
Total Pages424
LanguageEnglish
ClassificationBook_English
File Size17 MB
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