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PoetryRepairShop |
Marina (PoetryRepairShop MM.03:027) Water daughter flows back again after so many years flows back over the grey rocks and the rejected relationships silver voiced, silver flowing rippling rocks, enchanter's rod, the sea flows to the land strange land, stranger still the bones that flow and grow to silver in stature like a flowing jewel rock rives, river lives to sea water born, reborn ice burns away the hatred salt splits cracked lips crusts white wounds heal, backs torn by whips heal washed in brine blood's a jewel the killers came white through the blue water but she lived blinded eyes that couldn't see the river flow the magic rod looked out to sea soft voice, water's voice white curling hair we wept brine, my daughter Srimati Ann Dear Ann called Srimati Dear Ann called Srimati Dead, dear Ann, called Srimati And buried too, sculpted deep in stone Ann Montcrieff-Jones, called Srimati Buried beside the steps Stone lips that never kissed Ann (called Srimati) But aimed at the sun and a rickshaw puller Ann, called Srimati in the stall of the prince A rickshaw puller wearing ragas And the steps were stone, Srimati Ann And the god water, down to the water All river long the prayer, the marigold marriage, The garland of hair, Srimati Ann, Streaked scarlet to a dream. In a rickshaw raga, Srimati Ann, Killed by a visa, all the sun long Montcrieff-Jones in the water Surya's rickshaw dead and dazzled Gone to ashes, she in stone Milk-mild flesh and lips That yearned to kiss sun and ragas Woven to silence Ann Montcrieff-Jones (No longer Srimati) (To copy or translate this poem, please contact Anjana Basu) TRANSLATOR and ILLUSTRATOR WANTED FOR THIS PAGE
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