Maun Awaj
Translated from the Nepali by Hem Bishwakarma
Every footstep down presses
paths turn into pits
Merely the moon and the stars are not lost in the sky
also, some dead memories do
The smells of home vapors from the soil
get condensed and collide with clouds
and breaks into pieces
and take the form of rains
The rain turns into a fire
and the vehement fire– into a woman
An eccentric storm transpires
and flows and irrepressible wrath on
it burns into ashes and is put out
Nobody can guess
why it really happens to be a real
Yet, every woman after marriage appears
like a gloomy child, lost in recalls
Their shredded hearts have no merriment left
The woman with wound– pus and pains
could you imagine?
how she’d appear to be
The truths prove that
the sleeping woman with a hope
every year, someday
it will rise a morning again
never wakes
Nowadays, I am budding fast
Time left things behind for its’ limitless speed
which actually should be reaped up
As a mother is missed
teardrops– missed somewhere
Past is an enormous womb of existence
Women, perhaps, are buried dead down hence
That is the final place maybe
to keep me buried under
somewhere ditches below
When I was a young girl
along with me
a shadow would fall under the lime tree.
-Poet Maun Awaj is a luminous poet. His creative power is beyond anybody else’s. To keep it short, he is a poet with terrific force.