Mirror Mirror on the wall,
Like an earnest novelist,
Learnt not to tell, but to show
How far it resembles you at best.
Mirror is no camera
To snap you as you pose
With tamarind or cheese
On tongue or viscera.
Mirror has associates
Of its shiny breed and kith,
Hand-held, handbag, besides
The three-way truth or myth.
Mirror has friends and foes;
It's three-dimensional. Even so
It seems indifferent to
Time, the fourth dimension.
It can show you your profiles;
Each one faithfully accurate,
Making no allowance for age
Or mood or hurry or a sultry mate.
One rival that Mirror can't abide
Is the CCTV up above, which may
Be watching all our antics without
Censorious judgement or even pity.
Maybe Mirror sometimes wonders
If you resemble it in part or profile;
Supposing you to be a reflex blunder,
A passing pretense of its true soul.
- - - - -
January,2016
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I had posted an earlier poem on the idea of reflex images in 'a magic glass'. I recalled a hinged three-way mirror at a dressing table which intrigued me as a youth, without the left-right transposition.