O, Mother of This Age

Bhim Dahal

The memories of our trip
to the Maibeni Fair
in an inaccessible crowd –
you, tying me to the fringe of your chador,
appear at your backdoor,
like the fume of your rebellious eyes.
O, mother of this age!

Your sorrows must have returned from many porches
failing to procure happiness in loan,
many courtyards smell in your body,
you must have sifted grains at many landlords’,
for, grits still fall from your girdle cloth.
O, mother of this age!

The faint lines of your desires
aborted many a time,
stand out below your eyes
from the quivers of your broken lips
you are ready to raise the voice of mutiny.
O, mother of this age!

You must have suckled a lot of white blood
to the yearly born kids,
from the innumerable, unknown pains of your body
many diligent ones must have taken birth.
O, mother of this age!

You are gazing distant afar,
still you must be harboring some dreams
aren’t you waiting for a new age
gazing with dreamlike, painful eyes?
O, mother of this age!

Bhim Dahal (b. 1954) is a poet from Sikkim. His published works include Samriddha Vyatha, Kankal Abhivyakti, Ragatko Hastakshyar (Collections of poems); Abhistako Khoj, Droha, Bidroha (Novels); Mero Mannko Saino Timro Mannlai (Collection of stories); Vichar, Kranti ra Parivartan (Outline Histories)