~Suman Pokhrel~
Trans : Abhi Subedi
In how many minds
Should I go crazy?
Whom should I ask?
Should I continue to hop
Like drops
That jump up
After water
Flowing from spout
Hits the ground,
Or remain transfixed
Like a stone under the selfsame spout
That despite being lashed
By an incessant flow
Doesn’t even budge?
Which eyes should I look for
To find the ultimate
Unreasoned answer?
Or
Should I ask everyone the question
That should not have been asked?
Or Should I
Turning up to the sky
Be answering the question
That’s not been asked?
In this atmosphere
Where you have to go
Perennially crazy
Only to survive,
Which auspicious moment
Should I choose to become mad?
I didn’t ask any head
Like core of lapsi[1] fruit
Hiding no seed inside,
Didn’t ask for an auspicious moment
To a judgement like leaves of taanki[2] tree.
A dew drop as always
Was reveling all night with a flower
Taking a taste of alcohol,
Naked morning sunray too
Worshipped after diving in the river.
That effervescence
Finished after a short while
Like cotton fleece ultimately
Turning into cloud.
Without asking anybody’s advice
I made myself insane
Sitting under the same sun
And the same clouds.
I believed all along
One day
Everyone would go mad
Just to see me sane.
Meaning :
[1]Nepali hog plum of the mountainous region.
[2] A common Nepali fodder tree.
(Source : Grey Sparrow Journal)
