uski aankhaiN aksar bund rehti theeN
vo bolti nahn thee
suraj ki roshni us k bistray ki dewwar pe
dheeray dheeray kam ho rahi thee
lakin jab main ne ek baar jhuk kar
us k moonh main morphine ki ek boond
plastic ki chocnh jaisi bottle se denay lagi
to us ne apna haath utha liya
aur mere bazoo ko pakaD liya
aur jab us ne kuch kaha
to aisay laga k vo keh rehi thee:
mujhe choD na jaana
janam se hi hum yehi chahtay hain:
jo bhi hamain pyaar karta hai
us ki taraf sar apna moDtay hain
aur apna naam sun kar
moonh main paani aanay lag jata hai
***
I Love You
by Jenny George
Her eyes were mostly shut. She didn't speak.
The sun's slow exile crossed the wall above the bed.
But once, when I bent to feed her a drop
of morphine from the little plastic beak,
her hand shot up and gripped my arm. She looked right at me.
When she said the words, it sounded like she meant: Don't leave me.
From the very first, we love like this: our heads turning
toward whatever mothers us, our mouths urgent
for the taste of our name.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem