My father, when I was a tinny boy, asked me
To have something to whom I can return each day.
I carry the frontier advice in my bosoms
Where boundaries shift, links delinked.
Mind is guru, at times, pointer
Useless as weapons after the war.
I return in a silent night,
After the rain. Woods are fresh and green.
After so many years my boat is free.
It takes to its own course
Under the alien sky, gardens unseen.
My forest land, my people in the red soil
Keep their holy promises, more than just spoken words.
Each goat has a history book to show, each house is a door.
My Dulung has a natural course
My forefathers lay bare on its banks.
They have a happy abode,
Somewhere beyond these words.
Priest chants, santi santi santi.
Peace in the land is the rose that blooms
Every season. Jungle trees know its numbers.
Every house is wet by love.
How far is that land of love?
Between the alphabets, between the day and night
Temples and churches, love and more love.
There is the small unknown mystic lover.
Tribes smile like jasmine in the morning
Half drowned in early hours of the day.
People call it a forest queen.
---
Jaydeep Sarangi is a bilingual poet , editor and translator
anchored in Kolkata. He has recently served
as a reviewer for Writing from Below,
La Trobe University(Australia) and Comparative
Literature and Culture, Purdue University(USA). With Amelia Walker, Sarangi
has been working for a special issue for TEXT: Journal of Writing and Writing Courses http://www.textjournal.com.au/. Widely anthologised as a poet and critic,
Sarangi has seven collections of poems in English. He may be reached at:
jaydeepsarangi@gmail.com
Lovely cadence!
ReplyDeletelovely, nostalgic, simple, and the emotional appeal is great. the poet has a mastery of telling things in his own way. I love the flow, and the soft touches he has worked so meticulously.
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