A 22 ct poem on gold
Dear gold
In the body of a woman
you attain elegance
lying chained to the hip
fatigue like
Endless are the times
when earlobes and foot
seduced me without you
Mere threads of yellow
will do better than you
There's a cuteness
seeing you
swing from a single ear
Nose studs, with a stare
have stung me sleepless.
The ones made of rolled
gold too
But, dear gold
You become gold
when you are pawned
Like the revolutionary
who becomes more revolutionary
when hanged
Like the soldier
who gets shot and becomes
a soldier even more
Dear gold in the pawn shop
My gold, dear gold
Translated by Binu Karunakaran
Translated by Binu Karunakaran