Was it rain
There were scents:
of the rain-washed earth, of tobacco,
of the acrid sap of the mango-stalk,
of oleander flowers,
of woman’s inner lips.
There were colours,
of the mynah, of the pink balsam,
of collyrium, of wild fire,
of wet yam leaves, of red wine,
of fresh paddy.
There were memories,
of the index finger, wet lips,
How many names how many selves
How many places how many births
How many rivers from touches
The mad ecstasy of dreaming of your return
when I lose you
The wild shock of the fear of losing you
when you return.
I have never seen a rain so blue
an embrace so liquid, a dance so irrepressible,
a monsoon kiss that rains so incessantly
like flowers from a gulmohar tree.
(Translated from Malayalam by the poet ) K. Satchidanandan