Sky's color is like the soft blue of grasshopper's belly;
Guava and custard apple orchard all around, green as parrot's plumes.
A lone star still lingers in the sky;
Like the most twilight-intoxicated maiden in some village bridal chamber;
or that pearl from her bosom the ladylove from Egypt
dipped into my Nile-blue goblet of wine
A bright solitary star still hovers
just as it did some eon ago.
In a frosty night, the up-country menials lit a fire
in a filed whole night to keep their body warm
The fire was red like a cockscomb blossom,
Still ablaze, dry aswattha leaves are still crackling.
Its hue no longer like vermillion in the light of the sun
But has morphed into a wan ardor of heart belonging to sickly salik bird.
Both the sky and surrounding shine in the morn's light drapped by dews
like the glimmer of peacock's colorful plumes.
Morn:
All through the night, a sleek brown buck, roamed all around
the sundari through arjun forests
In starless, mahogany darkness it avoids the cheetah's grasp.
Waiting for the dawn to crack
It came down in the dawn's first light;
It ripped, munched the fragrant grass, green as green grapefruit.
Down it came to the river touching its cold and tingling waves
to give a jolt to its sleepless, weary, bewildered body
with the current's drive,
To become thrilled like that of dawn bursting through the cold and wizened
womb of darkness,
To wake like gold sun-spears beneath this blue and
Dazzle doe after doe with beauty, boldness, desire.
Then, a strange sound!
The river's water red like a smashed fruit.
Again the fire crackled-red venison served warm.
Many an old dew-dampened yarn, while seated on a bed of grass
beneath the stars.
Cigarette smoke;
Several human heads, hair neatly-parted.
Guns-here and there-frigid-guiltless sleep.
All through the night, a sleek brown buck, roamed all around
the sundari through arjun forests
In starless, mahogany darkness it avoids the cheetah's grasp.
Waiting for the dawn to crack
It came down in the dawn's first light;
It ripped, munched the fragrant grass, green as green grapefruit.
Down it came to the river touching its cold and tingling waves
to give a jolt to its sleepless, weary, bewildered body
with the current's drive,
To become thrilled like that of dawn bursting through the cold and wizened
womb of darkness,
To wake like gold sun-spears beneath this blue and
Dazzle doe after doe with beauty, boldness, desire.
Then, a strange sound!
The river's water red like a smashed fruit.
Again the fire crackled-red venison served warm.
Many an old dew-dampened yarn, while seated on a bed of grass
beneath the stars.
Cigarette smoke;
Several human heads, hair neatly-parted.
Guns-here and there-frigid-guiltless sleep.
My Jobonnatsen
0 comments:
Post a Comment