This unfamiliar tree bearing fruit over here
it's my mother
mango and rose-apple, pomegranate, pear
or maybe star-apple, hogplum too
...
Just inside the courtyard, on the left an ancient guava tree,
planted by father’s father-in-law; on the north side the kitchen,
after four monsoons slanted completely eastward;
the white faces of three widows, an oil-lamp burning in the dark;
...
drums and gongs call it dawn
as if it might rain today
the sun hasn't reached the lotuses yet, their petals
are still curled up, the screwpine, jasmine, and chameli
...
The moon struck them as a little more shameless that day
they felt as if the snake really lay hidden in the grass too
By then even the girl's moans had become stifled
their slightly guilty expressions were washed away by indifferent dew
...
At the river's edge ambushing
shadows huddle in the mud
rasping breaths echo in the dusk
it's only evening, not doomsday
...
Enough—such terrible cold—it's dawn
his eyes opened slowly—look
a pair of mynahs come up to the window
in the ground, talking beak to beak, wing to wing
...
Brine-encrusted wall . . . snake drooping over a beam
dusk approaches with a sigh . . . scraps of crumpled paper
scuttle across the floor . . . a window has blown open
the chill wind sweeps in whooping and wailing
...
With the meeting of the Baleshwar and Pashur in his heart
the man floats till he reaches dry land
Mehendigang market, Char Baisha's shrine
...
Oh the girl’s tresses unloose themselves,
her clothes fly away,
in the flame-orange of her body comes the dawn,
in the beckon of her enchanting smile the morning follows.
...