This Life a Poor Life

Haribhakta Katuwal

When the dancing paddies in the fields 

in between yellow and the green 

develop friendship with the bamboo leaves 

then it feels as if each moment of life 

is swinging likewise 

in the matchless jargon of love. 

What type of game is this? 

what type of meeting is this? 

somewhat different, 

some similarity, 

and among some dissimilarities 

like dusty soil 

and like a muddy path 

but in the middle of the same road 

like a full bloomed lotus 

difficult to define 

beyond understanding 

and hard to notice at a glance 

recognize not suddenly 

walks disguised 

this farcical life. 

Somewhere baseless doubt 

somewhere total belief 

somewhere anonymous thought 

something like about to open 

somewhat like dumb with anger 

hard to notice happy or sad 

might it be smile or a cry 

difficult to distinguish 

like a silk cotton tree across the hill 

this life a poor life. 

Like a rainfall without clouds 

like a rainbow sans colors 

like a word not spoken, yet willing to speak 

like a frozen thought during thinking 

like a two line poem composed lazily 

like a word hated to listen from others 

and the self could not utter 

really what a pageant like life it is. 

this life a poor life? 

Comic to talk to others 

but grows anger when you tell yourself- a fun, 

in an irregular pattern. 

Translated by Ishwor Kadel