ILA Magazine
Where Culture Meets Creativity
Belief
Sitting alone
on one barren tree top
Sermoning Hari Hari Ram Ram
A selfish crane,
hearing its rendition
running away far toward oblivion
Friends and relatives!
But I
Why could I become dumbstruck in that voice?
Yes, alone I closed by
Till touching end point of that voice
in both of my hands
melting down in that intoxicating air.
Water filled up to neck in a broken pitcher
Level going down slowly
seeping into parched land
water dropping onto the soil
Yes, me, that soil.
Let that water be sour or sweet
Mingled with poison or nectar
Every deception taken into its stride
Every taste, lands have enjoyed.
Fully aware
Belief gets poisoned at times,
However to keep an eye over that poison
left also no time
with a house under banyan tree
bound by dripping water from hits hanging roots!
Yet
After abscission of all leaves from the tree
Someone touches my back, softly
facilitates accumulation of palm full of hope
May those be real or virtual.
© Odia poem by Narayan Sahu
English Translation by Ashutosh Meher