Qabil-e-zawal, plastic k dibbay par likha tha
aur neechay, doosri shahi main
kab to is ko istmaael karo
har chamcha is ka kha lo.
Main apnay aap ko dekhne lagi:
haathoN k peecHay
ghutnoN k anadar
pair badalatay paaoN k talway.
Fir cHotay tamatrt k pauday k pattay
fir jhagaDtay hue do neel khand.
Do pathroN ko uthaey lakdi k table k neechay.
Coffee k pyalay, olives, paneer
bhiikh, dukh, dar -
ye sub kuch bilkul gaib ho jaNey ge, na jaany kab
Acahnak hi fir
Main ek ajnabi khushi se bhar gayi
jaisay koi mazboot hathoN aur mooNh wala aadmi
apni khushboo aur mutasadim main
us ghanty zawal ho raha ho.
***
PERISHABLE, IT SAID
Perishable, it said on the plastic container,
and below, in different ink,
the date to be used by, the last teaspoon consumed.
I found myself looking:
now at the back of each hand,
now inside the knees,
now turning over each foot to look at the sole.
Then at the leaves of the young tomato plants,
then at the arguing jays.
Under the wooden table and lifted stones, looking.
Coffee cups, olives, cheeses,
hunger, sorrow, fears—
these too would certainly vanish, without knowing when.
How suddenly then
the strange happiness took me,
like a man with strong hands and strong mouth,
inside that hour with its perishing perfumes and clashings.
-Jane Hirshfield
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem