Mindscape Maiden-II

Maiden

Mindscape Maiden-II

Rajaram Brammarajan

Were you the one who passed ordersfor the slaughter of the pain filled sorrow stricken animals?

Aren’t you the one after the yield of the last fruitthe white ants having nibbled the rest

who allowed the break of mid ribbringing the canopy down?

Or else are you the one in the flowery seat of one your incorporeal reproductions

entrapping me in the eddy of intoxication

Or else are you the one who directed me to glorify theindivisible?

Were you or some one elsewho was that who forbade viewing the pulsating stars beckoned me to worship your growing breast?

As for me I am the one who becomes what I come into contactnow turn into an incarnation of crocodile gra bbing your feet?

It is you yourself who brought the cool rainsto extinguish the raging fire of the incense-mast of front temples

When the time came you first smelt that it could be you who isand became what you are now

There I became a destitute infant looking for your lapbut you with your betel tinged red lipstightened your bodice decidedly so that you could dance

But you blanched the rays of my dreams barrenand turned them to your sculpted profile

Were you the who changed the deceptive slumber that failed tosleep to ones of real sleep and gave the immaculate

Or else were you the one who became solidified in the undersea floor of my oceanwith those bacteria that never see the light for years

Or else was it the shadow of your yoni or a sculpted Yaali of the tomb?

You of course were the one who made the stuck up thorn-stub growalong with the cells made me aware of my pain?

Yours was the voice which made mine shudder at oncewhen you beckoned me

You the one who becomes you alone could be the raga hindolam in the two temposas female in the male

Not comprehending anything I stand with bewildered eyespopping outYou are now me ever your you could be

Translated from Tamil by Latha Ramakrishnan

The How of Questions

 

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THE HOW OF QUESTIONS
Rajaram Brammarajan

And how is the bamboo flute
How is the pigmentation of the croton
How does the wild streambequeathed to you flow
How is the bamboo shootHow is the communication with the youthsans chance of progeny
How is Sadananda’s frenzied dance
How does the lone gold fish
swim in your fish pond
The river springing from the flute lingers in the alap of Ahirbhairav;
the plant wilted;
the pot remained solid mud;
the ear unable to hearturned into a mere ornament-a grinning metal;
Bashfully loosening her sareebared her shoots of breasts;
before even the tap was turned onwater ceased;
now and thenthe entire universe centers in madness
Even swim-aware death in the waterand that wish is real.

Translated from Tamil by M.S.Ramaswamy and T.K.Doraisamy