Mishra Baijayanti
Sunamaya!
The day you entered the new abode of your bridegroom
The birds were preparing to roost on the tree nearby
They laid eggs
Incubated to the hatching stage
And flew to the woods far away, along with their newly-hatched chicks
Next winter–
The cuckoo sang tear-jerking songs.
Next twenty years–
Pomelo plants grew
Bore fruits
And turned into firewood then
Plus
Nature attuned the sounds of earthquake, flood, landslip and spring
In such a manner
Their succession meant a melody;
It tuned up for decades.
Nowadays
You perceive the surroundings through your exhausted eyes
Your shawl? It’s been feeble, still richly warm as before
Hey Sunmaya,
An elderly beauty!
Could you share the plight you have deeply journeyed through?
[Translated from Nepali by Badaldevi Chamling]
Sunamaya
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