The Unfed Begging Bowl
Where does the wounded darkness come from
And man is shaped from pits dug out
This dejected life, a sorrowful cemetery
But the traveler did say to her
‘Do not beg with the heart of your feminity;
anyhow you will have to prepare yourself for copulation.
Can’t you see the stars are unfaithful and so is the light of street lamps?
The unfed begging bowl did retrace its way
Weeping down the alley.
But will it ever return now
The hawker’s cart, selling cheap bread and curry?
She stopped in her tracks and suddenly
The station came upon her-
-a paan shop with its cigarette counter…
Gaudy handkerchiefs laughed
Slung around the throat.
A red-light habitation of way-laid colours,
From the waiting room the traveler made a caustic remark
‘so yu had to come finally the troupe of harlots
a murli wandered collecting jogva.
Translated by Charudatta Bhagwat