us raatt tu ne muje jaggayaa
aur poocHa: kis ne ghanti bajaaee hai ghar ki
hamaray ghar ki ghanti nahin hai
jawaab diya is tarah main ne
jawaab nahin diya tere swaal ka
(kaisay main tumain khoob pyaar karoon
tere khwaaboN se bhi baatain karoon?)
ek baar ek ajeeb gusal khaanay main
hum ne donon sink pe chicken wings khaaey thay
sirf tu aur main hi thee wahan aur sheeshay ne
hamaray baaray main ye kaha:
main safed blouse pehnay hui thee aur tum ne
har baar jab meat kaaya apna sar neechay jhukaya
(nahin, swaal nahin k ye kaafi tha)
main chaahti hoon jab mun main aayey hum pyaar karain
aur fir andheray main araam karain jaisay
safed kaDkDaati haddioN ka thoDa sa kooDa paDA hota hai
darwaaza kholaiN aur ajnabi safed blouse pehnay mehmaan ko
jiski unglian ghanti ka batan daba rehi hoti hain, ye bolain:
aaj k din k baad jab bhi chaao hamaray ghar main a jaaya karo.
- -
Anniversary
Chelsea Wagenaar
To love purely is to consent to distance.
—Simone Weil
The other night you woke me
to ask who was ringing our doorbell.
We don't have a doorbell,
I replied, and in this way
didn't answer your question.
(How to love you enough
to speak to your dreams?)
Once in a strange fluorescent bathroom
we ate chicken wings over double sinks.
Just you and me and what the mirror
said about us:
I wore a white blouse,
you bowed your head
for each bite. (No—the question
is not one of enough.)I wish for us to love
without context, and afterward to cool
in the dark like a modest rubble
of pale, brittle bones.
To open the door
and tell the mysterious guest
in the white blouse,
her finger on the faint bell,
From now on, just walk in.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem