excerpts from the long poem by samsher, translated from hindi
the pigeons hum a ghazal...
i couldn't understand, what were its rhymes and rhythms,
so subtle, so light, so sweet
was their pain.
in the sky ganga's sand is moving like a mirror
i'm sleeping there like mud
and shining somewhere...
don't know where.
my flute is a boat's oar—-
whose notes have become wet,
chap-chap-chap my heart goes...
chap-chap-chap.
*
lay me down on the mountains of thirst
where i'm writhing like a waterfall
let me burn in the rays of the sun—-
so that you can dance like a fountain
in its heat and flames.
*
yes, love me like fish love waves
... where they don't come to be trapped,
like winds love my chest
which they can't push in too deeply,
love me like i love you.
*
you praised my poem a lot— i thought
you were talking about yourself. you praised
my poem a lot.
whatever color you wrapped me in, i kept getting wrapped:
and when it couldn't be unwrapped— you burned me.
you kept watching me even as i burned: and i
kept liking it.
a scent has settled on my eyelids
like directions, as if they were the small spelling
of your name, little lovely, slanted spelling.
ah, the bit of grass that got stuck
in your teeth on that picnic,
it still digs into my sleep.
if i was jealous of anyone
i'd have been reborn again and again every hour:
but it's as if i'm immortal in this body—
your blessing!
many arrows many boats, many wings
came flying here, roamed and passed away
taking me, all of them. you thought
you were one of them. no, no, no.
there was no one there. only the sad hues
of happenings and mishappenings, that have passed away.
only that.
*
टूटी हुई, बिखरी हुई ~ शमशेर बहादुर सिंह
टूटी हुई बिखरी हुई चाय
