Chet Nath Kadel ‘Harit’
A bird would bring home news:
The bayberries are ripe in the woods
The spring, with its green hue, has bloomed
Berry ripe! Berry ripe!
Where did the chirping bird go?
Where has the cuckoo’s coo-coo gone?
Even the chatter of the barbet is not heard anymore.
We neither get the lapwing’s hoot
That holds the sky in place;
The bulbul’s match-making song is missing
The hopping of the blue-throated barbet too is gone
The dove pair too is missing
And so is their cooing :
Coo-coo!
Coo-coo!
Oomph! What should I wait here for?
Where should I lay my eyes on, and linger?
This settlement appears desolate to me;
All I can see is torture, piled one upon another.
Tell me, Mother!
Where is the greenery that was here before?
Who mauled me on the throat?
Who was the one to stab me on the neck?
It seems, the air here is unfit for settlement
These songs are unfit to be sung
We can neither catch the chirping of sparrows
Nor hear the crooning of ruby-crown kinglet
All that is left here is a sparrow
That always roosts upon the camphor tree
In our front-yard at night
And hoots, in desolate night,
Making a frightening sound: phyll-ip, phyll-ip!
It’s not possible to continue here
Listening to nothing but the voice of this sparrow.
Mother, tell me:
To which resort should I go to find
Greenery of a different sort?
[Kanel is an expert of Natural and Human Resources. Also a poet, he is associated with Nepal Shrasta Samaj, a literary organizations. ]