CHISELLED
WORDS
Translated into English by Arvind Gigod
Arjan Dev Majboor
I said:
“I offer you words.”
They said:
“They are useless.”
I said:
“I sculpted them. Take them.”
They said:
“They have lost meaning.
Give us new.”
On the street
I saw
a scarecrow laughing
at
the bent huts.
The wise hang from
Paper-pegs on the walls.
From the shoulders
I shook off
noisy phantoms
With horrid faces
they danced like mad.
I sat still
on the balcony
and
watched all.
Everything was in pell-mell.
But soon
a soft murmur
consoled me.
I snatched
the cloth,
the sunny spot
and the mirror reflecting virtue.
They are my help.
I heard a call:
“What do you desire?”
I said:
“Give me words,
the miracle of words.
Give me
the springs of love,
the grey dawn,
basketfuls of flowers,
the dancing shy moon,
fragrant colourful dusk.
They will wash the pale earth.
Light will cover the world.
I have to sweeten
stale conscience
and
light lamps in the dark meandering
streets
for
the thinking walk through them.”
Once more
I chiselled words
and
embellished them.
Then I said:
“Words, I have given you life.
Come out of the prison afresh. \
Old canons don’t become you.”