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.