IN THE CANVAS OF THE SKY

 

LAXMI NARAYAN MAHAPATRA

 

The moon is on wings in the sky canvas.

On wings of cloud it crosses the river, woods and hills

and Boats beyond the girdles of wavy sea.

The green forest loots on from afar

as the moon flies in the sky canvas.

In the canvas of the sky the star lamps dazzle.

In what eerie city sleep is lost in dreamy foamy light.

Desire glitters in some sleepless eyes

and then in cool balm, eyes close in sleep.

The birds from woods do fly in sky canvas

In some note of love that echoes in the horizon

All the memory fades into the blue of sky

and the blue engulfs a handful of notes.

The spectrum of the dusk dissolves in the sky

in a tone of gray and the green of leaves

fades into a single tone! What a world of colours in the sky!

The sky hangs on the wall of a drawing-room

like a dream in swoon.

Whose brush paints so awefully?

What pity turns to colours and the songs?

Oh! Don’t break the sky or smash its dream!

Don’t efface its colour, let it hang

with all its tenor in caves of the sky.

Transcreated from the Oriya by the poet

 

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