Have you ever seen -
The actual idol at Tarapeeth?
Its Neelkanthha on the lap of Shakti;
Galled and unconscious.
And Shakti-
Setting Him to Her breast,
Regenerating life,
Tranfusing Her cascade of milk
Into His comatosed self.
My Neelkanthha,
Decant all the venoms-
Of this noxious world
Into my veins;
I can’t see you endure such ordeal
Relentlessly;
In the twisting and stifling-
Boa constrictor’s mesh.
Come, my child,
Let my nectar replenish -
All that is squashed out of you,
By this unremitting cider press;
And let my beads of fresh spring-
Rejuvenate life-
Into your string of seasons.
-
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem