Poetry:
Surendra Shrestha
Unaware of Your Love, Perhaps!
Some day—
Unable to understand your love, perhaps
I happened to pile, like litters,
All those innumerable roses of your plea for love
In a dustbin at a corner in my house
Filling it to its brim.
Like the emissaries of your love, these roses
Were meaningless, though not away from me
Insignificant, though quite in front of my eyes
Devoid of love, though within my purview
Today, I am realizing all this,
And am remembering those meek eyes
Of roses that were like the emissaries of your love...
Unable to understand your love, some day
I trampled beneath my feet all roses
Of your plea for love
And flung them into a dustbin at a corner in my house
Filling it to its brim.
That moment,
You raised your hood from the dustbin
And with the eyes of roses, watched
My television-love, dribbling with lust
Gawked at my computer-love at its climax
And stared at my shameless mobile-love
The hi-fi love of wifi all over the house!
In return, today—
You are bellowing at me from the same dustbin
In the guise of an invisible corona
Perhaps, you are nagging me
Yes, some day—
Unable to comprehend your love, perhaps
I trampled with my hubris
Innumerable roses of your plea for love
And flung, like litters, in a dustbin at a corner at my house
Filling it to its brim.
I beg your pardon, my love!
With all my hubris crushed underneath my feet today
I have raised hundreds of roses on my chest
Exclusively in your name.
I am confident, dear nature,
My love!
You won't trample on my chest.
Some day—
Unable to comprehend your love, perhaps
I happened to pile, like litters,
All those innumerable roses of your plea for love
In a dustbin at a corner in my house
Filling to its brim.
Translation: Mahesh Paudyal
