~Shailendra Sakar~
Translation : Manjushree Thapa
This new year too in those same eyes
the same stamp of theatricality
I wanted to learn and I’m going to see
each moment of time passing by a unit of time
I wanted to understand and I’m going to hold onto
the melting snow mountain of lifespan
How will the sun place its strange footsteps
in people’s eyes
How will it recall its own presence?
I wanted to touch each face of time as it passed
I truly felt greedy to see the face of the coming day
room wall street fetid alleyways
in the papers in shops the premonition of coming days
eager to learn who’s hammering relentlessly at the granite of time
Shattering shattering will it then emerge
in a whole new form?
Who’s shaking the tree of time to drop the bodhi seeds
New years
Ripping up and tossing away those same days opening those
same peels
unclosing those same pupa breaking those same mirrors
standing at the door wiping those same mouths-aspirations on loan
the butterfly comes in season books in time night and day in time
the butterfly comes in season casting off pupa
A new day has come through the back door-a new year
Without my knowledge its sunlight has reached my bed
Even as I close the window
as I go on strike as I refuse
without my knowledge someone’s opened the back door of
the room of unawareness of the semi-awareness wrapped over
the brain
the day has entered like a thief like a wrongdoer
I’m not ready to accept it
How greedy am I how eager?
Still, somehow, suddenly they keep arriving-
each new year being forced upon us
(Source : Nepali Times)
