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Sadanand Rege


An alloy of iron and bronze
Brushes a menstruating mane against the Sun
. . .

Eagle's wings blaze out in the feet
Controlling a sky that slips out of a bowl of sound
. . .

The stag from the moon stands on the cliff of the eyes
Caressing the downy storm in the blood
. . .

A prolific neighing cracks the sky open
And a jewel gleams in the raised hood of the fifth note

Translated by Dilip Chitre


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