Poetry:
Suman Pokhrel
Before taking decisions
In how many minds
should I go crazy?
whom should I ask?
Should I continue to hop
like drops
that jump up
after water
flowing from spout
hits the ground,
or remain transfixed
like stone under the selfsame spout
that despite being lashed
by incessant flow
does not even budge?
Which eyes should I look for
to find the ultimate
unreasoned answer?
or
should i ask everyone the question
that should not have been asked?
or should i
turning up to the sky
be answering the question
that’s not been asked?
In this atmosphere
where you have to go
perennially crazy
only to survive,
which auspicious moment
should I choose to become mad?
I didn’t ask any head
like core of lapsi1 fruit
hiding no seed inside,
didn’t ask for auspicious moment
to a judgement like leaves of taanki2 tree.
Dew drop as always
was revelling all night with flower
taking taste of alcohol,
naked morning sunray too
was making worship
after diving in the river.
That effervescence
finished after a short while
like cotton fleece ultimately
turning into cloud.
Without asking anybody’s advice
I turned myself insane
sitting under the same sun
and the same clouds.
I believed all along
one day
everyone would go mad
just to see me sane.
Translated from Nepali by Abhi Subedi
Note:
1Nepali hog plum of the mountainous region.
2A common Nepali fodder tree.
