"Goddess of Bamboo Who's there that you don't reach out? When you were young You gave us the rice during the famine When you grew up You grew as tall as the mountain itself Though you stayed at the bottom You became a flute to Lord Krishna Became a cradle to the new born You became a thing of racing toy for the playful children You became the storage can for the food grains During the off season you became a storage room You became a celebration as the pillar of the wedding pendal You became the excitement During the dance of the Nandi-Kolu You became the roof for the entire village You became a blowing tube for the stove When my grandparents became weak you became the supporting stick You became a paddle for the boatman You became a beautiful basket in the hands of the artisan When man wanted to climb up You became a ladder When man was but a dead body You became the the platform to carry him to heaven."