The Sixth Sense - Poem by Hemant Shesh
At the same time this train passes every day.
I remember the dreams I had seen once.
Those cruelties, Those affections,
Those examinations I had passed
Unfold like windows
Opening in the wind.
I return to the past years hopping over the platform of age
And find myself before a ticket-window.
Nobody knows of the unknown journey and the destinations unknown
Everything unwritten and complete -fades into the noises.
A blurred fog slithers down the shoulders,
Past beneath the elbows, like a newspaper that has been read.
A long wait stuck to the chin.
'Gather the luggage, We're home……..'
Which always begins in a dream.
At the same time this train passed every day.
[Translated by Jayant Goswamy]
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