~Gopal Prasad Rimal~
Translated By : Dr Tara Nath Sharma
A princes and a poor youth !
How like two falling stars
the slanting lids of her round eyes
Moved to kindle the divine flame
On the poor young breast?
How heaven saw itself mirrored
In the poor youth’s eyes.
Sparkling like dew drops
On a lotus leaf shooting up farm mud bed !
Perplexing are these questions,
But the fairy tale is silent over it.
It has only this much to say:
They fell in love !
Like a shower this may have occurred
Like fire this may have spread.
In the passing glance on the highway
And at that, the cool glance of a princess,
What do you get from that glance
To soothe your feverish spirit, to stop your hunger,
With which as if it were the heaven’s treasure
Why do you walk with your head held high like a winter cloud,
O’ poor youth !
Wouldn’t you be squeezed dry like rain clouds?
Wouldn’t your breast be crushed under the impossible weight of a meeting
Wouldn’t your heart be torn by storm flashes?
But the fairy tale is silent over such exquisite pain.
The poor youth in the tale remains unmoved
As if through magic transfixed.
With airy steps made light he enters the princess’ quarter
(and) they are married.
(Source : Pen Himalaya)
