Classic Poem

Blind one am I, and he that was my staff,
Where hideth he?
In what strange woodland tarriest thou, my hind,
While I, thy dumb fawn, stray lost and seek my home in vain?
Apart from thee what can I do?
How longer hold to life?
O let me meet my mother! Such the prayer
The servant. Jani, pours before the saints.