You, They And Me (A Dialogue With The Bamiyan Buddhas) , Buddhas Under The Shadow Of The Gun, Can It Be? (A Dramatic Poem) Poem by Bijay Kant Dubey

Spectator

My Lord, You get away, get away
They are coming, coming!

Lord

Who, who?
Who are coming, coming, my son?

Spectator

They, they are coming,
They are coming, Sire!

Lord

Who, who, my son,
Who, who are they, who are they coming?

Spectator

They are, they are, Sire, the Talibans,
The Talibans hurly-burly people!

Lord

Who, who, my son,
Who, who are they coming, my son?

Spectator

The Talibans, the Talibans are,
The hurly-burly turbaned and in kurta and pyjamas coming.

Lord

Why, why are they coming,
Why, why, my son?

Spectator

Hide, hide You, Sires,
Hide, hide You, my Sires!

Lord

Why, why, my son,
Why, why are you, my son?

Spectator

They will, they will break You,break You, My God,
They will, they will not spare You even!

Lord

Let them, let them come, my son,
Let them, let them!

Spectator

God, God, hide You, hide You,
They here, here with guns, mortars, shells, axes and hammers!

Lord

Let them, let them, my son,
Let them, let them be with!

The Public Viewing

The Talibans breaking, breaking with cannons, mortars and shells,
Hammers and axes the BamiyanBuddhas,
Buddhas, Buddhas under the shadow of the guns.

Oracles Heard

After the break-up heavens cursing, cursing the Talibans,
You will, you will sleep no more, no more,
O satanic people, devilish and demoniac people,
You will lose the peace of mind and will go bad!

As You Sow, So You Reap

The clusters bombs falling, falling over
And the Talibans running, running for cover,
The most satanic and misanthropic people.