A divine magic, an ancient magic
happens right in front of my eyes.
Indrajatra, day when gods walk
among crowds of people
through the cities,
in Kathmandu valley.
Men dressed in costumes,
and wearing face masks
representing the deities
walk among their kins,
friends and neighbours.
A divine magic, an ancient magic
happens right in front of my eyes.
A land as ancient as it can be,
Kathmandu valley comes alive
on day of Indrajatra.
God of rain and good fortune,
Lord Indra and Lord Ganesha,
deity of justice, Bhairav Swaroop
and living Goddess Kumari
reveal their divine forms
in the old city of Kantipur.
A divine magic, an ancient magic
happens right in front of my eyes.
On Indrajatra day spectators
are transported back in time.
They glimpse the glorious past,
they see legends of yesterday.
Men dressed in sacred costumes
enact the old folklores.
Myths are no more myths.
Old legends come alive
on Indrajatra day.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem