*
I see a dim star; colorless;
With closed eyes
among the little stars
in the blue sky
one descends to earth,
Towards my river side
Once She lived here, with her
Beloved husband and eight children;
Where are my children now?
Two sons and six daughters.
I gave life to eight; even now I can
Bring one more; where is my beloved man of thirst?
Everything is vague;
Even the first rain;
Even the first kiss;
Even the first embrace!
Everything is blurred.
I too grow uneasy
like the odor of the
rain-washed earth.
Countless poisonous
snakes creep towards me.
Many emerge
with their bleeding tongue
Women come out from
Earth’s blood; they run the
ballet, with flora on their
Beautiful *******
The drums end their stillness.
Pretty women move towards
the river-bank's shades.
Lotus blossom in his rivers
A fairy girl walks from her petals
Who will breastfeed him?
Who will give him his flute,
his peacock-feather cap?
I am an umbrella of stars.
My love is the flute's life.
My word is from him;
From my own son!
*
BY
WILLIAMSJI MAVELI
Jul 15, 2013
Jul 15, 2013 at 1:15 AM UTC
*
I see a dim star; colorless;
With closed eyes
among the little stars
in the blue sky
one descends to earth,
Towards my river side
Once She lived here, with her
Beloved husband and eight children;
Where are my children now?
Two sons and six daughters.
I gave life to eight; even now I can
Bring one more; where is my beloved man of thirst?
Everything is vague;
Even the first rain;
Even the first kiss;
Even the first embrace!
Everything is blurred.
I too grow uneasy
like the odor of the
rain-washed earth.
Countless poisonous
snakes creep towards me.
Many emerge
with their bleeding tongue
Women come out from
Earth’s blood; they run the
ballet, with flora on their
Beautiful *******
The drums end their stillness.
Pretty women move towards
the river-bank's shades.
Lotus blossom in his rivers
A fairy girl walks from her petals
Who will breastfeed him?
Who will give him his flute,
his peacock-feather cap?
I am an umbrella of stars.
My love is the flute's life.
My word is from him;
From my own son!
*
BY
WILLIAMSJI MAVELI
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