This Hand Has Touched

This golden figurine- oh dear, will she ceaselessly crumble away, In the night, in the sun, in the rain in the arms of another man? Her nipples two bared switches,- switches? Hands tremble at their touch. This hand has touched worms, pillows bound to chest, blood, In a greedless drowning to death in the blood's mucus, This hand has touched the shriek of tearless eyes This hand has touched This hand A tunnel-like alley- running through it lightning-fast, small change clutched....sounds of boots behind, a cigarette in the sleeping mirror's mouth, this hand! No steam builds in my heart. Yet, we meet in the darkness of a mist, eyes flash like a gold coin hid in an ancient chest. The nipples two bared switches, hands tremble at their touch, Even this hand! There are some billion doctors on this earth. Like Parashuram I shall kill them all and wake to life in a pool of their blood. Moonlight, like shadows of trees. Within it none alive. Anymore. Trees under the sky. Darkness, leaves bunch. A stream within the leaves. Within the stream's every vein cruelty; For the present, cruelty gathers her aachal away and says, There are the lights, my cousin waiting at the gate, I have to go now.... Go, but never again alone in the dark turn your neck to me, go, I shall for long stand in watch here and hold the dogs at bay, go today without fear, but never again. Today, go without fear. I shall stand in watch. [Translated from Bengali poem 'Ei Haat Chhuyechhilo' by Nandini Gupta]