Day - Cheran

DAY

A thicket of bamboos
borders the shore.
The river meanders
along yellow.
You stand on the bank

You know pretty well that
I don’t follow your tongue.
Yet
you insist on speaking in it.
I can only speak in mine.
You are angry about it.
But I can’t help it.

Again and again
you write to me in your language
With no love lost between us
I can hardly
make efforts to learn your tongue.
For the present,
the loss may be mine.
Yet
I tear your letter to pieces;
and throw them to the flames.

In days to come
My people
shall do the same.

As the wind blows
a fire breaks out in the thicket of bamboos
bordering the shore.

It shall spread to your home, too.

••••••••

-Cheran