The Washerman
by Mohan Rana
Silently watching morning's brilliant
light tear the dense clouds
I forgot the sky and
the aching hand,
Looking at the wrinkles of the
tearful reflection in the water
I forgot my age
Seeing the bloody shadows
in the swaying greenery
I forgot the corpses' present
and started thinking something else
Dissolving the clouds' basket in the blue sky
I am washing myself
The literal translation of this poem was made by Lucy Rosenstein
The final translated version of the poem is by The Poetry Translation Workshop
© Poetry Translation Centre 2004-2012
PREMNARAYAN NATH says:
Excellent translation indeed! The fidelity to the original is kept at optimum level, which is encouraging to the original poet and praiseworthy to the translator.