An enmity has survived for two generations
between siblings.
The Men, when they come against one other,
throw a glare, and turn away.
The Women pass by,
their heads bowed down.
And the Children, when there is no one to note,
Share among themselves looks
that none recognise.
Enmity...
whether with purpose or not,
has in its branching hands,
flowers,
the sweetest of the fruits
that there be,
and for the father's rocking chair,
a shade
it extends across the partition wall:
the trees and plants of his home.
-Poem by R. Anuradha
(image credit: eyefetch.com)
Good one
ReplyDeleteI read the original. It's wonderful. The translation is good but the original is more emphatic. I liked it. Bas, I think you should give the link to the original here.
ReplyDeletei know, balajhi. a translation can never do justice for the original.
ReplyDeletethe link has been given.