This is an exercise in translation, my first. It's a translation, quite literal, of this poem by Rahul Rai. I do believe the original is the real thing. I thought of this as a technical exercise, but of course, it's emerged well-filtered through my fingers. I mean that it's meant to be the same thing as the Hindi poem, only transposed, but it seems inadequate. I haven't grown entirely fond of this one yet.
Old Dreams In Orange
My old dreams in orange are
on their way to meet the stars.
Once upon
I pounced upon a brimming bowl
of sweet cold milk
and drained it to its dying drops.
The time I sat
my body hugging the pillars
of the courtyard:
the evening clouds
(so dark that day) frightened me
and ran away.
And in my fear I ran,
burrowing my body
into my grandmother's lap.
I am calling the winds again, today:
Come back, you.
Make me take me walking
to those distant silent suns.
And with my atoms unchained I will kiss you
in this sprawling sparkling dark!
My sinews distorted, I cannot sit still
no more in your memories.
No more this pretty world I like,
no more give grace to the dead and dissected.
Oh,
my old dreams in orange, take me
with you, those sundrop stars to see.
