Thursday, November 28, 2019

The Cormorant < Mohan Rana>



The Cormorant

Soon a new season will start
If there is spring in this latitude
I'll change my clothes
And stroll around guided by maps
Trees will come into leaf
Birds fly back from near and far
I hope there will be no news
Of a new war
I'll clear my throat to say the half-spoken but fall silent
May this spring be so long that the memory of
Autumn does not return to the solitude of words

Spring is getting shorter each year
Each year grows shorter in spring,
So short that sometimes
Only two seasons seem to be left now -
Good and bad
Joy and sorrow
Love and fear
You and I
May spring and autumn be divided between us
And the withering rain remain all year long

I thought, let's catch the fragrance of a taste coming from the kitchen
On my sleeve and write it down
Wishing to understand something in the quiet back yard
Searching in a tiny space for a corner to stand,
Time may come soon
To divide the world
All has to be forgotten in order to remember
Alone with the inventory of necessary baggage,
Life requires not just breath
But flames of love in mind's shadows -
The hand which breaks the fall

Small change in the abacus adding the loan of drudgery
Nervous in the decrepit present, feeling my dry cheeks,
I haven't yet seen the past
From inside the mirror
When I leap in its luminous unknown
I lose one thing to gain another


 
 [2009} From collection 'RET KA PUL' 2012
Translation from Hindi by Lucy Rosenstein 

©  Mohan Rana 2019

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