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| Poet Tulasi Diwasa |
Blue voices
cascading down the sky
float over blue ocean.
Red voices
emitted by martyrs' blood drying steadily
spill over rhododendron petals.
Yellow voices
descending from the evening horizons
nestle
in the ordered layers of marigold.
White voices
melting out of the barricades of clouds
freeze over the solid
high-rise bosoms of the Himalayas.
Green voices
startled, escape from the evergreen dense forest
passing by the shaven mountain cliffs
and bare hills
are uprooted with the tearless banks
even from the farm land
migrating down in green fluidity
piling up green deposits
at the bottom of the sea
Black voices
blemished by the mental pestilence,
aridity of mind and fall of conscience
surge up in the flood
of untamable darkness
through the black tunnel -
the overflowing river of seething time.
I
who came out in search of a voice
lost my own
in the melee of voices
and returned home
utterly voiceless, silent and lonely
after joining with respect
this procession of coloured voices
a colour game of holi played by Time.
Is this silent homecoming of mine
my attainment of the Buddhahood?
Or a preparation for another grand renunciation!
Like this colourless indecision
I'm voicing a continuous voiceless decision.
Translated from the Nepali by Abhi Subedi
Courtesy: The Little Magazine, 2000
(Tulasi Diwasa is a Nepalese poet and folklore expert. Professor Diwasa had served as Cultural Secretary at the Nepalese Embassy in the USA and had also taught as a visiting professor at various universities abroad. He is now a life member of Nepal Academy and the President of Nepali Folklore Society. He has authored dozen of books on literature and folk culture.)
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