Your short stature itself
is testimony to God's
intention to create you
in the form of a football.

Knowing still it was meant for the net, many a time must
the earth have longed to be
a football, seeking your touch.

Instead,
you kept your word, teaching
all the ***** on earth to dream
of growing into a globe.

Since your feet and football merged
into one, all loves on earth
were liberated for the time being
from the metaphor of
the spring and  cherry tree.

Outside the field,
the bullet shot you launched
tore into the iron fences,
oblivious to the red cards of the dictators.

Now,
the earth where you stopped playing on
has become a lone deflated
leather ball on the penalty line,
with no one to take a shot.
But its memories are still alive,
brimming with Infinite dribblings
that you are about to
commence with God.
O
Poem by Veerankutty.
Translated from Malayalam by Anwar N K