It's all mixed up: Vladimir, Yaroslav,
The skeletons of monks in the underground church,
The Tartars, the Cossacks, the Germans, the Stalinists, the contemporaries,
...
A fouled Sun rises from behind the textile mills
As I crawl out of my nightmares and hobble
To the sink. Then I luxuriate in the toilet
...
Reflect my grief
River of loss and gain
Mother of bliss
Source of pain
...
The Czar Peter opened up a window on Europe
From where the bankrupt poets of the future saw
A mysterious navy well-armed with battle-ready poetics
Advancing on Russia.
...
Prophets have light
Screwed tight in their eyes. They cannot see the darkness
Inside their own loincloth.
...
Like a painting by Velazquez
A woman stands
Alone in the frame
Touched by the brush of light
Blossoming.
How did
Flesh Tint reflect Naples Yellow
In this greenish blue room?
What made the sun
Suddenly rise on the palette?
That beggarwoman on Tulsi Pipe Road
That streetwalker in Chicago
What immortal light has washed them
To make her stand here
Naked
In mysterious clarity?
Venice, Barcelona, Madrid, Rome
Florence, Castile, Nice,
Pune, Satara, Valsad, Palanpur, Jaisalmer,
Thrissur, Kottayam,
Hissar, Ludhiana, Muzaffarpur, Bhuvaneshwar,
Ujjain, Jhansi, East Godavari, Karwar,
Vengurla, Alibag,
All geography is as colourless as linseed oil
Pigments come from the sky
Like a naked woman from over the Western Ghats
Luminous
...
They tell me your colour is blue
My life-breath feeds on your inspiring luminous pastures
All that stands still or moves has turned into grass
In celebration of your much-extolled blueness
...
In your poisoned wounds
Fall the shadows of burning planets
The splitting breakers of foaming oceans
...
as the butterfly
hovers near a sunset
its wings touch the sea
...