Sunday, December 19, 2010

The shadowed sights

The hymns to recite, were its own, of Kanchenjunga
along the passing times of its shade
in the much and unwritten bends of history
sights were shadowed
and still they use to be shadowed
Now why these hymns are turned into elegies
o brother the water of Teesta and Rangeet turned salty why
fishes migrated and to which river

Beneath the pervaded desolation
the unheard grave dissentions are
explained as the semblances of dreadful peace
Who knows why these desolations trace their language in the ‘Mother’s Dream’
‘what sort of land will be without peace?’ they interrogate in silence

But these silences became our life style
and perhaps we forgot to live without that
how much we are alone in the time margin
and on the bends of that time
yet we are shadowed and will be ever shadowed
and from these shadows a little doubts are liberated
some disbelief are also freed

Perhaps from the continuous flow of those forlorn perspirations
again some curses gush
again some misfortunes speak

Mother’s dream:‘Amako Sapana’, a poem in Nepali by Gopal Prasad Rimal.

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