from Father
Piyush Daiya
1.
father, are you going home
leaving me behind like a gob of spit?
I always heard that you can only travel
as far as your velocity permits
while you burned yourself, what did you learn?
spirit—
burn the body, it will not return
6.
in a trance, I come out of the hospital
after losing my father, as real as breath
a strange sort of wonder that only whores know
—men sleep with the living, not with the dead
7.
what is it that cannot be hidden, what is visible now?
—corpse—
a parting gift
that Hindus do not permit decay
by turning into ash
does the end wear a mask?
on a path made by one's own footsteps
what is the word that can be brought to life?
—corpse—
9.
what isn't
becomes a space for living
where sound does not form words
but in every breath
mourns
us
10.
one day I knew I would not be able to stop
and would be drowned forever in a silent scream
—you will die
with your heart, innocent like a flower
one day I knew in my heart
you will die
11.
all the past years turn
white in the limitless sky
as soon as he is gone
hidden
I will burn silence
and return
never to come back again
13.
and you learn that everyone turns their back on you
the moment you breathe your last
to burn the corpse—
you
18.
how long can one live
when all has ended, how long
speaking without words in a language
that is chasing me, foiling me again and again
what will be heard is silence
not me, father
20.
like head to hammer
like father to fire
—my return
time flows like blood
mother
pick a star for the glint in your eye
or wipe the vermilion off your forehead
23.
how lonely this house is
looking skyward at midnight
it will fall into ruin
fall silent
without you
father, are you going home
leaving me behind like a gob of spit?
I always heard that you can only travel
as far as your velocity permits
while you burned yourself, what did you learn?
spirit—
burn the body, it will not return
6.
in a trance, I come out of the hospital
after losing my father, as real as breath
a strange sort of wonder that only whores know
—men sleep with the living, not with the dead
7.
what is it that cannot be hidden, what is visible now?
—corpse—
a parting gift
that Hindus do not permit decay
by turning into ash
does the end wear a mask?
on a path made by one's own footsteps
what is the word that can be brought to life?
—corpse—
9.
what isn't
becomes a space for living
where sound does not form words
but in every breath
mourns
us
10.
one day I knew I would not be able to stop
and would be drowned forever in a silent scream
—you will die
with your heart, innocent like a flower
one day I knew in my heart
you will die
11.
all the past years turn
white in the limitless sky
as soon as he is gone
hidden
I will burn silence
and return
never to come back again
13.
and you learn that everyone turns their back on you
the moment you breathe your last
to burn the corpse—
you
18.
how long can one live
when all has ended, how long
speaking without words in a language
that is chasing me, foiling me again and again
what will be heard is silence
not me, father
20.
like head to hammer
like father to fire
—my return
time flows like blood
mother
pick a star for the glint in your eye
or wipe the vermilion off your forehead
23.
how lonely this house is
looking skyward at midnight
it will fall into ruin
fall silent
without you
translated from the Hindi by Rahul Soni