By Wonders of Cambodia · Translated and adapted from the 1877 poem by Uk
In Cambodian folklore, the story of Moranamātā (Khmer: មរណមាតា, pronounced “moronak meada”) — the “Daughter of the Dead Mother” — is cherished as one of the most tender and tragic tales in Buddhist tradition. First set into verse by the poet Uk in 1877, it tells of a devoted mother whose compassion endures even beyond death. After being killed unjustly, she is reborn as a trei damrei (marble goby) to protect and comfort her grieving daughter. Because of this legend, many Cambodian families still regard the trei damrei as sacred and refrain from eating it, believing it symbolizes a mother’s love that never dies.
Long ago in Videha City, King Vimala Dhammarāja ruled with wisdom and virtue. Among his officials was Kulliya and his wife Keo Kesī, who had a daughter named Kulakesī. A poor man’s son, Kodumbika, loved her deeply, and the two eloped to a distant district called Kāsī. Captured by bandits, Kodumbika was saved when Kulakesī offered a gold ring in ransom. The local governor pitied them, adopted them as spiritual children, and granted wealth and land. They prospered and had a daughter named Komarī.
When Komarī was young, a widow named Kālī seduced Kodumbika and became his second wife. Under her sway, he turned cruel toward Keo Kesī and eventually struck her down, throwing her into a river. She drowned and was reborn as a trei damrei fish.
Komarī searched everywhere until a river spirit told her that her mother now lived beneath the water. The girl’s cries brought forth the fish‑mother, who consoled her lovingly. From that time on, she was known as Moranamātā, the Daughter of the Dead Mother, and fed her mother fish with daily offerings of rice.
When Kālī’s daughters killed the fish, the girl buried the remains; in their place, two golden banana trees grew. A sympathetic cat saved their roots when Kālī destroyed them again, and through Moranamātā’s prayer they became two luminous golden trees guarded by her mother’s celestial spirit.
One day, King Vimala Dhammarāja saw the miraculous trees while hunting and, learning their story, brought them and Moranamātā to his palace. When she prayed, the trees floated through the air and rooted themselves in a golden basin. The king, moved by her goodness, made her queen.
But greed returned. Kālī dug a pit of boiling coconut oil and, while the king was absent, tricked the queen into stepping onto it, killing her. Disguising her daughter Chandā Sālinī as the queen, she entered the palace. The sacred trees withered; the king, on returning, sensed her loss.
The goddess Kiri Mekhalā revived the true queen, transforming her into a sārika (myna bird) so she could safely reveal herself. When the bird sang its tale, the king knew it was his beloved — proof lying in the golden ring he had once placed on her foot. The false queen was punished, and peace was briefly restored.
Later, through trials and aid from a rat king, a mongoose, and the god Indra, Moranamātā regained her human form and lived humbly under a hermit’s care. From a lotus flower, a miraculous child was born — Puthum Kumār, whom she raised as her son. When grown, he sought out his father, carried with him his mother’s sacred tokens, and reunited the family.
Queen Moranamātā ruled beside her husband with compassion and wisdom. Remembering the animals who once saved her, she ordered offerings given eternally to cats, ducks, rats, and mongooses — and alms to the poor. Thus she lived in peace and virtue until her passing, leaving behind a story every Cambodian child still knows: a mother’s love that conquers death itself.
