they love me
for being
a river,
they like
the sway of
my flow
the way i surge
and run and
rage
and move against
rocks
and sticks and
timber and
even carry
rhinos and
crocks
on my back
mind you
they love the way
i gargle
the way a toothpick
satisfies
a discriminating
matron
after dinner
at most
they cheer me
for my
travels of
least resistance
as i curl
from one sleeping
mountain to
another
as i ignore
cliffs
and holes
and sharp
bamboos
and some
pythons
they all praise
me for being a
river
and fear me for
every little
uprising
sometimes
because i can
be also
cruel
when provoked
like fallen
grace
i get awarded
as the most promising river
the committee
gave me the
Highest Achievement Award
for a river
i get the trophies
and the cash prizes
and the numerous
plaques
(i feel
the inside
roughness of
the other
plaque between
my teeth and
gum)
i am not
really happy if
only
they
ask me
but they didn't
who wants to be a river?
yes, who really wants to be a mere river?
nobody
but love me for this
i never cried
a river
i cry no
river no more
(never for once
if i
correctly still
remember)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem