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A Quickened Night

  • Published at 08:10 pm December 12th, 2020
A Quickened Night

Poetry in translation

(Translated by Nuzhat Amin)

In watercolours etched a moment’s fragrance

Stretched over that river’s arm

Do you remember? That subdued

night, the day the mountain

came to bow respectfully, the river by its side . . .

Darkness in its fist, a festival of the dead, yet

then was no squall – even in the crackling sun

The motherland was peaceful, the beasts crabby-blind.


You fell asleep during hunting

And from the graves the bodies of ancestors

Started levitating in the air, suddenly in whim

or plain curiosity

You got lost in the mystery of a different paradise

You remember – the bed of love in flames

            and I had learnt to tame the fire

            causing some of you to smile . . .

This fire burns in blue water, whereas you

were scorched by lack of faith,

did not get the remaining ashes


The wolves have opened their eyes, all around

the decimated flocks of birds.

And on your visage grew

Alien vegetation, saw – the motherland and you

become alluvial enriched mechanized dolls.