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.