Wednesday, July 13, 2016

the window ( translation poet and Shri Nityapriya Ghosh)

The window that I have kept open
is filled with love, with dreams, with moonlight
you are my unhappy childhood, my undisclosed fears
my voice tuned with care
I lovingly place you within my eyesight,
within my anger.
O love, I shall place you between my breasts
as if you were the tiny bundle of money
kept by the beggar
I shall wear you as if
you were a gilded chain
held together by a safety pin.

the window which I have kept open
shows a lonely sky
I cough, stuck with phlegm
because the window lets in cold air.

the biting cold air which penetrates the thick canvas
O love! keep me awake with a death wish.

for I have been laid low by a man
eighteen years older than me
I have been kept awake by caresses
of another man who does not exist.

like twin brothers, love splashes
and wets my insides.

O love, do not make me forget myself
for I wish to stay wide awake.

for the death wish of which I spoke to you
was just a manner of saying.

let them go on raping me.
they will find nothing.
they kept on thrashing me
I have been torn apart
like  a loose hemline
of the canvas yashmak
impossible to repair.

I feel no more
I care no more if they drag me
 along the road
I care no more if they
wring me as if I were a wet towel.

O love, I have laid out my wailings
like my loosened hair, I spread them out
on the very window through which I let you come.

when the sun rises high and scorches
I sweat inside my yashmak.

Now I can hear my unhappy childhood, my tuned in voice.

Death and Love, drown down everything.

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