Nabaneeta Dev Sen Poems

My exile is over, mother,
No more living in the jungle for me
Come, mother, underneath this matted beard
Feed the familiar cheeks of your child
...

Standing still by the nameless road
I hear the violence of rain
Beating on the panes
Going dark
...

Fourteen sticks to my hair like a blob of chewing gum
Adolescence in my palms
Moonwax trickling over my brow
...

When it rains it seems the room itself turns blue, trembles
and falls like rain, as if endless time coming from nowhere
...