The peace we long for
swings between
The point of a bayonet and the heart beat
Like a dying man's last breath
The peace we long for
Lies on the bed.
The peace we long for is a temple, a masjid,
an explosion, a cease-fire, an ending, a continuance
An injured song, a thunder of lightning
dropped, snapped from heavens.
It's like the foot of a banned poem
Buried in the gullet.
Amidst the sonorous expositions of peace
By the bearded Mullahs and Sadhus
The peace we long for gasps for breath.
.
The peace we long for
is lame like the gait
of a dog that broke his leg.
.
Pity!
We have to get on
With whatever amount of peace
The state rations us
Collecting it in our bags.
*Translated by Naudury Murthy
