Saturday, 20 February 2016

Poetry 2016 Longlist, Neelamani Sutar


Epithet

If sight is interned in words
Touch in sight
If love is marrowed in touch
Ah! Fie on abstinence!

Pole star always breaks my slumber.

One day an epithet of some God
High above his dreams
Arising from his bed,

Would Listens –
She who was lamenting
Beside him for time immemorial
Is no more his wife.
He who was standing as a statue
Before his incarnation
Is no more his son.

The epithet now soars up
Enters into the serenity of the sky
Finds no chariot this time
No charioteer
No prohibition to love
No tempting snare of beloved
Plentitude of the palace vanished.

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