Three Line Wonders

(Translated by Kumud Bhansali)

Downpour a storm fell and fell off its stem one rose in the roars of thunder suffocated petals still sobbing separated by one hand, maybe two feet Still smiles the one on the stem the one fallen, lies on the ground The one on the stem shed its embracing arms on the ground, that one lost feet to stand Then came the rainwater flooding the field Followed the wind smashing the plant Both caught in own selves, They do not speak of the full moon tonight. The solitary purple night holding calamitous chaos cupping Kumbhakarna wrangling a cobweb in that corner an insect caught dying slowly Out there, tiny bushes fluttering in the wind Even the mountains feel their feet shaking even if invisible clouds snatch their backpacks run amok

The rose on the ground speaks of dews of dreams (and stampedes) The rose on the stem aspires the sky the flying clouds So they park for now, conversation about the sun.

December of the year the last two roses in withered fields lying around One on the stem other on the ground.