Calatropis
Wiht the bait at the end of the finger I sat on the bank
While you were coming with a rank smell
In the noise of the rivulet in spate,
Joy is mine like that of the bubbles.
On your body the kiss I planted with my soiled lips
Becoming a rivulet however many turns took!
O my flower, Calatropis, round your beauty
Shivas go around like pariah dogs, dear
With your eyes tireless becoming a sail raised for me
For your getting hooked in this house of grief
In my eyes hide an ocean silent.
selling fish to buy grain now
And roasting those still wet to pound
Your hands become pestles wooden
To make love, wherever is the time for us
Where is the day to breathe in leisure
In a great hurry we rish, I into the mud,
you into the town, with the basket fo fish on your head
-Translated by
Dr. V.V.B. Rama Rao,
Taken from Voices on the Wing
Telugu free verse 1985-95
