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ഗിരീഷ് കൃഷ്ണ ചെന്നൈ In my village once lived a boy,
And a girl of five,
I knew them in my boyhood days,
For I loved their childish ways.
They were born in the same hill side,
And played and grew by the lake so wide,
Like crimson sweet enchanting rose
With hand in hand they sand and stode.
Telling tales so new and old.
One day they went for a walk
For a while they sat on a rock
For far away green valleys saw,
The little one said “there we’ll go”
They left behind woods and brooks,
They saw bushes teeming with blooms
The emerald lawn cheered them
While the gentle breeze made a hum
The little ones did reach the river
Which ran bright, oh, as silver,
They made merry on its bank,
Till into the sea the flushed sun sank.
The little girl took water in the hands
And threw in to the air and she did dance
Her little feet slipped and she was drowned,
No longer he heard any sound
Nor could he scream but stood there dump,
His heart did stop and brain got numb,
Into the depths he promptly jumped
Searching for his closet friend;
But for ever and ever had they gone
Though the sun a usual rose and shone
The next day I stood there still,
To find the two young bodies
They had their hands together clutched
As though in heaven they were attached.
