THE STONE BREAKER
Suryakant
Tripathi Nirala
Stone she breaks;
I saw her
on the way to Allahabad–
she breaking stone.
Sitting passive
beneath a tree spreading
her body dark
youth full-grown
eyes bending
heart deep in dear work
striking again and again
with a hammer
heavy in her hand;
and in front
a row of trees tall
running round the fence.
It was a summer’s day
Red-hot and fiery;
the sun was advancing
the searing loo rising
the earth burning
like cotton on fire,
and the particles of dust
cast all over.
Often at such noons
stone she breaks.
Haply glanced at me,
looked at that mansion,
broken-stringed,
and finding none
gave me a stare
which, though whipped
enough, had never wept.
Setting my Sitar
smoothly back in tune
I heard a melody ne’er
heard before.
A wink after elegantly
she stirred
and rolled down her
forehead the beads of sweat,
back to her work,
likewise she said:
Stone I Break.
–Translated from Hindi by I. K. SHARMA