I don't see why I should
read or write
These days
there are termites all over my moon
And my boat too has strayed
far
very far
from the lighthouse beam
My birds are frightened
at the very sight
of their young ones
My faces turn and answer
to the names of strangers
Am I those people?
A great unknown folly
stalks me like the demon Neeli
demanding the sacrifice
of my relentless feeling of guilt
I know
I am never going to glimpse even
the smallest ray of forgiveness,
nor receive the final
deathbed alms of mercy.
The last inferno to which
the lost are consigned could only be writing
and the ultimate heaven attained
by losers
could only be reading
(in Tamil, translated by N.Kalyan Raman)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem