The oars of my eyelids
(an English translation of Don Papnyanchi Walhi by Indira Sant)
A pair of eyelids? Or a pair of oars?
Rowing away, relentless
How excruciating should
The night of exile be?
A grand treatise,
Bound by its pages
Thoughts, entangled
As if a spiderweb
The boat trudges on
Through the pitch-dark waters
Through the howling winds
Through the overpowering waves
The whistle of a bird
A stumbling footstep
The distant shore of the dawn
And here – this strange cacophony
- Indira Sant
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