My Gem

She sleeps peacefully in my arms,
Her head resting on my shoulder,
Her warm breath running down my neck,
With its soft whistling through her nose;
It’s like the music of Krishna’s flute.
Heaven can’t be as soothing as this.

The Gods have been kind to me;
Bestowed upon me their most precious gift:
My darling baby girl, this girl so pure,
In body, mind and soul.

But look! Look at those fools,
Who value not this priceless gift.
Those literate fools,
Who put aside their morals and values,
And cross all extremes,
To murder this gem before she’s born.

How unfortunate their souls are,
To have been truly blessed
And yet destined to be the cold-blooded murderer
Of this very blessing.

But blessed am I
By the radiance that emanates from My Gem’s Being.