The Dead Moon

Sanjay Bhatt 
               
Now, nothing will happen to  Shravani, 
if the rain approaches her. 
She longs for the vast sky while standing near the window
The clouds are already gone by leaving 
the wet road.                 

From the electric wire, drops of water fall down
Tears were one day falling from her fair cheeks,
Why?

Why does she recall the  memories of her childhood,
in a floating silhouette? 
She recalled moments like 
the game of paper boats,
and how she was stuck in the mud ...
While reminiscing about the soft touch of red velvet mites from the greenery 
She recalled those lovely moments.                                 

She recalled her college days
The colourful umbrella that swayed in the wind
The shy scarf that fluttered in her chest
In a wet gown,
 she turned into a statue
She felt the season of love
Ah! How blissful that rain-soaked night was!
She was writing a love letter on the lamplight by hiding from everyone
This rain had brought her the fragrance of flowers 

Her love, her dreams
became rainbow
In the distant horizon.              

On this rain-drenched road
She remembers the spilled vermillion mark on her face

What will she gain by remembering the rain now?
The cloud in her eyes 
now bore the imprint of the dead moon of the shrivelled morning sky            
in the stole of the time.
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This poem is translated by Sudipta Mishra from the original Odia Poem 'MalaJahna'.