I think it best to turn around
My hands smeared so black
For so long
Never thought of you, as yours
When I stand by the ravine at night
The moon calls to me, come
When I stand by the Ganga, asleep
The pyre calls to me, come
I could go
I could go either way
But why should I?
I shall kiss my child’s face
I’ll go
But not just yet
Not alone, unseasonably
From: http://www.caravanmagazine.in/poetry/five-poems-0
Date: 1983 (original in Bengali); 2013 (translation in English)
By: Shakti Chattopadhyay (1933-1995)
Translated by: Arunava Sinha (19??- )
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