He wanted to say
The newest things
He wanted to talk about
Soil and water
Fire
Wind
Vacuum
About mysteries
My favorite poet has been murdered,
because
He did not smile
He said all smiles are fake
He said the flowers in the garden, the tress in the front-yard
Want to go to the forest
He understood the pain of the flowers, of the trees
Of men
He said
No one wants light
No one wants the dark
Men are searching for men in the darkness of light
He spoke the unseen truth
That is why
My favorite poet has been murdered
His face has been butchered
His hands have been broken
His chest has been hit too heard to revive life
My favorite poet has been made to slept forever
Till now
He did not sleep
Did any one know
My favorite poet has been murdered
My favorite poet has been brutally murdered
And perhaps even I will be murdered some day
In such a Monday
Somewhere near the palace, before
The sun rises, because
Now everyone's aware
I too want to say new things
Day after day, night after night
Even I haven't slept
Have been searching through the dark and light, wanting to talk about
Soil
Water
Fire
Wind
Vacuum
and about mysteries
(Translated from Assamese poem "Xotyor anwexonot mur kobi aru moi," by Nileem Kumar)
1 comment:
Eliot-esque! :)
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