राजकुमारीकी र उनकी आमा

सूर्यले बादललाई सिन्दुर लगाएको त्यो साँझ
राजकुमारीझैँ सझिएकी 

कोमल हातमा गुडिया बोकेकी

एउटी सानी नानीका आँखाले 

आफ्नी आमासँग 

प्रश्नहरू सोध्दै थिए–

“आमा घर जाने बेला भएन ?

कति खेप बोक्न बाँकी छ

ईँटा र बालुवाको भार ?

कति समय लाग्ला बनाउन

हाम्रो पनि यस्तै ठूलो घर ?”

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Global Village

“We’ll create a Global Village,” they said.

And they laid

The basic foundations

To connect people

From different Nations.

***

The Global Village to people is dear;

It’s brought them near

And they understand

The world better than ever.

***

Is the world getting better, though,

I wanna know

When we are closed

In the closeness

Of this virtual world?

Are we going farther away

From our families?

From our friends?

From our neighbors?

From our society?

***

How do we balance between the world’s

Real and Virtual?

How do we carry on

Ourselves without

Being enthralled by stuffs

That are not quite real?

He sits in the corner of his dark room and cries

He sits in the corner of his dark room

And cries

Remembering the girl who cheated on him

And then

Threatened to sue him for no crime

He did.

He knows her tears will melt the mass,

Her voice will resonate in the crowd,

Her accusations will kill him even if

The court proves him innocent.

He knows no one, no law can

Help him.

That’s why

He sits in the corner of his dark room

And cries. 

Parents and their Daughters

In towns and cities connected by roads

Never distant are the daughters

With no compromises and loads

Close to parents are the daughters.

***

Never distant were the daughters

We hope all our lives

Close to us were the daughters

We dream all our lives.

******

We hope all our lives

To return again to our parents

We dream all our lives

To see once again our parents.

***

To return again to our parents

We lament in this far off land

To see once again our parents

We pray in this desolate land.

******

[Note: I had written this poem in Nepali (माइती जान नपाउने चेली). After I received a comment from Mick Canning and read the translation, I felt so bad. So I tried translating the poem myself. This is also my effort on the Pantoum form of poetry.]

शताब्दी

मध्ययुगीन युरोपेली शैलीमा

सेतो रङका पाप्रा उप्किएर पहेँलो, कालो बनेका

दिवार चिरेर उम्रेका उन्यु र पीपलका पात बोकेर

उभिएको कुनै भुतघरजस्तो संरचना देख्दा 

नतर्सिनू,
चारैतिर दुईतीन फिट अग्ला घाँस, दुबो, सिस्नु,

वनफाँडा, काँडा र गाँजाका झाङमा

खेलिरहेका, गफ हाँकिरहेका अनि आफ्नै कुनामा

सर्को तानी मनोरञ्जन लिइरहेका थरीथरीका मानिस देख्दा

नझुक्किनू,
छतमा, फूलबारीमा, लाइब्रेरीमा, कोरिडोरमा,

रुखमुन्तिर, ल्याबमा अनि क्लासरूममा

निश्चिन्त ग्याङ, ग्रुप र जोडी बन्दै

टङ्टङ बज्ने घडीघरको पेन्डुलम जस्तै

यताउता गरिरहेका विद्यार्थी देख्दा

नअल्मलिनू,
भर्खर शताब्दी पार गरेको

भुकम्प, राजनीती र 

बेवास्ताको मारमा परेको

जन्ममा नै पिताको 

मनमा बिस्मात जगाएको 

यो त्रिभुवन-चन्द्र बहुमुखी कलेज हो !

Were they humans?

Were they humans when

          they dragged me to the streets?

Were they humans when

          they tore my clothes to tatters?

Were they humans when

          they fed me their excreta?

Were they humans when

          they scalped me and kicked me and punched me?

What had they become when

          they called me a witch?

***

Had i been a witch

           wouldn’t i have pushed them away?

Had i been a witch

           wouldn’t I have stolen their riches?

Had i been a witch

           wouldn’t i have inflicted terror upon them?

Had i been a witch

           would i have prayed the Lord

                      to make them humans again?


The Dark Clouds

All she ever asked for was–

a morsel of good meal

with her family

in a house that

protected them

from the blistering sun,

from the drenching rain and

from the chilling cold.

***

Her wish never came true

but she hoped it would,

until one day–

the dark clouds

washed out her crops,

washed out her hut,

washed out her hopes,

washed out her life.

***

She now wails, but in vain!

For it is not loud enough

to wake the gods up in heaven

above those dark clouds

that brought the rain!