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Sri Sri

Bull In The City

On the city's main street
The bull stood quietly
Chewing its cud
Of memories of past births,
Eyes half-closed,

The bull in the heart of the city,
Not heeding time,
The very owner of the street
Laughing at the pace of progress,
Stood like a king.

Who can ask this bull to move ?
See what it looks like !
Stop the car !
What's the rush ?
Brother, you on the bicycle,
Watch out ! The bull doesn't move.

Pacifist, vegetarian,
Staunch prohibitionist
On the city's main street.
The bull can stand like this

A bull has no sense.
What about man ?

Translated by Velcheru Narayana Rao

Sleeping Bones

Bones, many of them beneath the earth,
Caskets of silence, of sleep.
Only one long night there,
No morning in that crematory bed.
In that endless, shrouded abode
Cold Death
Dances alone.
Cemetries where experiences of a ceaseless, wintry heart froze,
Those human bones of sleep, their dreams wander in the netherworld of Bhairava.
They sometimes shake their skin colour
By the weight of remembrances of times when alive.
My eyes
Melt into tears
On seeing the cold invitation
They send me.
I don't know why, but my heart gasps for breath,
My skeleton shivers.

Translated by Velcheru Narayana Rao and Carlo Coppola


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