~Yuyutsu Sharma~
From the porous ground
of a savage slope
ravaged by a landslide
they watch visitors
coming up the hill paths
like clouds rushing up
through the green folds of mountains
to race over the hunger of their huddled huts.
From the rickety shacks
of their makeshift schools
they wait for a guardian angel,
an evangelical promise, an official from an INGO
or a promise of a new God, an ideologue
or a Government official on a broomstick
to glide them through the famished skies of their wailing valleys.
Like spiders moving up
to possess the fragrant body of a white lotus
later in their sleep they will meet other visitors,
the gorillas of famed names and stenguns
pulling them from their black hair
to hurl these heroes into furious scripts
of epic battles in the name of charting
a course for a new nation already looking like
a delta of splattered blood vessels.
Translated by Poet himself
(Source : Drunkenboat.com)
