Who's There?
Y. Indira Devi *
Who's there?
Knocking at the door
At this heart of night
When human voice meets
The utter silence of solitude.
The knocker is untied;
Step in my son, my precious,
Take to your heart's content
The six morsels of rice
I, your mother, reserve for you
Full many a day.
Tell me, your mother,
What have you extorted?
What is your displeasure?
Tell your mother in earnest.
Answer me,
Why is it that
All this late late night.
You enter the house of your own
Like a stranger stealthily?
I, your mother
Am utterly tired
Worrying for you
Sleepless all the time.
My head aches beyond bounds
How long must I be so?
Life is fading down;
In thus awaiting you.
My confidence is no more
To see your lovely appearance
Before the parting moment of life.
Translated by Dr M Priyobrata
* Poem written by Y. Indira Devi for Hueiyen Lanpao
This poem was webcasted on May 05 2015.
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