Our laundrywoman dies and darns.
She also makes sarees fall so well.
We ask please do not die, just fall.
Our sarees await their glorious fall
For their ensuing wedding season.
New sarees go up for wedding sale.
We fall easily for the silken rustle.
We need your fall, lady, do not die.
We wear the fall and we do not die.
In our silk sarees we fall headlong.