TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH BY PATRICK WILLIAMSON
THE JEU DE l’ESPRIT
Those long precious moments of silence with oneself in the swirl of experiences open the door to worlds in the jeu de l’esprit
The human standing upright blurry ideas become clear and haloed
A fragrance shower pours forth day after day whenever the eyes contemplate dawn and dusk
FLOWER THE SPACES
There is so much silence in this world of many stories
We are so small confronted with stories of bloodshed faced with stories of stolen gold bars and plundered territories
But sometimes a single voice kindles the flame of hearts and blooms devastated landscapes
TURN YOUR BACK ON THE NIGHT
In this night of bodies screaming in despair, there are those who turned their backs on the night and who under their carapace repair what gives breathes life into singing and dancing
SEE
It is up to each of us to see in the horizon what makes us want to walk to live to make love to welcome beauty
IN THE HOUSE
Our hearts failed us top to bottom in the crannies of the house
From the breasts of our mothers to the erotic sliding between women’s lips where we have known many births
Our hearts failed us by portraying our faces
We recognised what sings in us
Today, in the midst of monotonous noises, we clean the stains of our fathers knowing that this is the price for us to stand before the twilight dancing scenting the house
At the windows’ edge there are bodies curled up that reek of days these bodies are fires of quarrels
From here, listening to voices in pain of a crowd of children on a misty horizon, we stand in the shade of the trees and dance with the burden of our fathers’ stains
We give our gestures wings of light
We merge with the twilight dancing to the rhythms of those who exorcise the house
Also, read Abandonment & Other Poems by K. Satchidanandan, translated from the Malayalam by K. Satchidanandan, and published in the Antonym:
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