Grey scalpel, grey slaughterers
Comb sideway of melding blood and brine, seriatim,
Stroke gold-yellow kerosene swells possessive of streets.
Burdened omnibus stabs the broken motorway,
Retracts to stoop to grey hawker-
His coy belly is distended from hunger
The hovering dust pleats the road
Tar holds sway smoky rust like confounded wraiths
Possessive of the runway;
Rebukes from spice-caked stall-women stalk
Annoyed warden as ghostly whispers ashore yet
Enchants pot-bellied man shaving beard...
Blast, fire, ruckus, receded prayers on rolling tyre
Nets resonances of thousand penchants.
Light on trailer crevices
Echoes back upon rushing tandems.
Beneath a sky darkly blunt
She heads home beating the throng's plaint
Above haunted night-watchers,
Trampling adire women, soul-sour policemen
Of leaking uniforms.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem