THE SAND WHERE WORDS TURN DECOMPOSED

I am listening
Please speak
As it proves impossible to share
the way Sorrow keeps pouring and overflowing
in the woods with no words
I swallow the words that keep breaking into two
and turning decomposed.
Don’t mind me.
Keep telling about yourself
In the Woods sans words
My ears get filled up with sand.

Except the noise
of shells falling down
planes roaring above
gun-shots going on everywhere-
Absolutely no other sound at all.
Your phone-call.
The sand-dam surfaces.

Except being alive
there is nothing else.
Even the life reduced to half
the words getting decomposed come
one by one.
Except one or two words of yours
being scattered by shells
I have got nothing.
The sandy floor begins to burn.

In the conversation that hangs suspended midway
The fear for your safety resurfaces
From the moment you had disconnected
I keep waiting for your words
after the terrible battle.

The hollow sand opens its mouth all too wide.
How long I would be swallowing
my words being decomposed,
hiding myself from you?
The phone remains there weighing heavy.
The sand stirs up and blows.
__________________
(May 2009)

A poem in Tamil from Deebachelvan titled
SORKALL SIDHAIGIRA MANAL
Translated into English by Latha Ramakrishnan