When the metropolis succumbs to somnolence,
recollections attain sentience.
Those I evaded beneath diurnal pretexts
reconvene within the dominion of obscurity.
The head reclined upon the pillow
transmutes into an unwilling witness
to utterances aborted mid-conception,
to confessions eternally unarticulated.
Within the ashen glass of an extinguished screen,
your appellation phosphoresces—
neither invocation nor communiqué persists,
yet the myocardium furnishes its own reply.
A glacial current trespasses through the casement,
brushing against respirations grown archaic;
fractured laughter, muffled lamentations
dissolve into the viscosity of nocturnal hush.
The night interrogates nothing;
it merely reinstates remembrance—
who was once intrinsic,
and which certainties remained perpetually unfinished.
At dawn, amnesia will be rehearsed as ritual,
yet the verity endures:
nocturnal memories
possess a veracity
the daylight dares not sustain.
By Rajendra Prasad Meena Jaipur India
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem