poet Mallika Sengupta

Mallika Sengupta

The Husband's Black Hands

The moment she tucks in the mosquito net and goes
to bed, her husband's black hands fumble after
the snakes and frogs of her body: 'You're hurting me!
Let go!' In anger, those black hands twist her breasts.
He says, 'Listen here, Sweta, don't be coy.
If ever I find even the evening star
gesturing to you, or making eyes,
I'll see that you fall into a hellish pit.'
Sweta's white thighs swing back and forth in space
clinging to the back, her husband's black back.


[Translated by Carolyne Wright and Paramita Banerjee]

Poem Submitted: Monday, March 19, 2012
Poem Edited: Tuesday, May 8, 2012

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Comments about The Husband's Black Hands by Mallika Sengupta

  • Michael WalkerMichael Walker (7/16/2016 6:33:00 PM)

    Very good imagery & dialogue & I found your frank words
    for the body and love refreshing.

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