BINOD CHANDRA NAYAK
THE SNAKE I SAW
I didn't see it, dangling
on the bough bearing the forbidden fruit,
tempting
the nude, primaeval Woman
in God's garden.
Its coiled elegance, its bejewelled hood
I did not see.
I didn't see its fragile frame,
winter-struck,
in the dewy fields of November
inching its way
upto the farmer's hearth,
basking,
aroused again,
warmer and fiercer.
Nor did I see it, wafting
in a tame, enchanted game
like a wavelet of the unruly sea
playing around the feet
of the celestial fairy, Urvasi,
on a spring dawn.
I saw it
like the cold hand of Death,
I saw it slithering in dark
underneath the bamboo-grove.
And suddenly it sprang up
like a hot summerstorm,
upraised hood,
lightning-tongued;
Under its eyes a spread of desert
and thirsty mirages,
dancing.
I saw it :
a garland around the blue neck
of the Lord-of-Destruction:
Shiva !
Above the neck
gnarled, auburn hair.
Lips chanting belligerence.
Venom dripping
from the cracked urn.
And, beyond that I saw
the stream of white consciousness,
the eternal descent of RiverGanga...
I saw it :
I saw the snake.
Translation :
The Poet.
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