As time moved on, the good grew scarce,
Old leaves crumbled, flowers vanished,
Then the clouds gave way to let it pass,
Its creation entered with rainshower,
A dusky seed sprout forth from the soil
A seed, not a miracle, not a messenger
But she was taken away in a gust of wind.
To a budding land known for Red Indians
And beauty and fame in sand,
But she grew slowly, grew tentative,
Not forgetting her origin.
Her weapons, smile,warmth, and wit,
Beautified her Kerala with art and dance
In an unknown land.
She was the colour of dark red, with love
Her heart fed, her kindly laugh shadowing,
All expression, showed her mind.
Withstood, sun and storm, agony and joy,
And at last she blossomed, into, a healing rose
Which lent her hand to all.
Her bloom reached all, even heard in her true home
Her kerala, so faraway, and though happy nation,
Kerala broke into tears and touched her heart,
She knew she lost her twilight of joy, long ago
But she visited her daughter day and night,
Wherever she was, never forgetting,
The dusky rose from Kerala.