Translated from the Gujarati by Shailesh Parekh

Spider

Simply filthy, rollie- polly, stained all over, utterly ugly;
Slides to move, an octopus swimming in the sea of breeze;
To transform its own body, is there a touchstone?
Anyways, who wants o look at him?
With threads – golden, sticky and delicate
Weaves anew every day, a strong web from its own body;
Like some classical poet, restrained, creating a pieces of art,
That is not crushed under its own weight.
Like a guest from an alien universe, remains aloof,
Appears still, lazy, calm, composed – springs to action!
Attracted by the fragrant flower-like web, a fly sneaking past,
Cannot escape the vigilant eye;
Secret desire of the heart – (not only the earth in sight)
Some time, may be, capture the sky-wandering star!

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Peacock

Spreading the train of its colourful feathers,
Happily observes spread of its vast pride
(in this scorching summer, ever available shade for a snake)
Sweet notes of its intoxicated call
Struggle to stir the sky, try to thunder all around;
In between sway the two wings of its own,
And always proudly pleased with its own style,
Like a romantic poet, arrogance in person!
Dazzles all with luxurious style,
With the lilting curves of its body,
Invites all generously, to enjoy the festival;
Royalty of exquisite world of colours, forms, notes.
Secret desire of the heart – strange indeed, (who to share with?):
Its priceless tears – will someone, somewhere, sometime share?

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Memory

Inside my home
Since ages I sit in a corner.
My room is beautifully decorated,
Crystal chandeliers adorn the ceiling,
Floors covered with thick carpets,
Silk curtains on the windows,
Framed mirrors on the walls,
Colourful flowers on the table;
My room was filled.
Suddenly, someone entered,
Made me smile and sob, momentarily,
Went away before I knew;
It became a memory in my heart.
Now my room is empty,
Filled only with a memory.

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Dream

Outside my home
Since ages I roam the streets.
My streets are long and wide,
Crowds everywhere,
Vehicles rush here and there,
Fumes of smoke,
Screaming voices
Buildings crushing;
My roads were full.
Suddenly, someone passed,
Hardly speaking or smiling
Vanished like a mystery;
A dream in my eyes.
Now my roads are empty,
Filled only by a dream.

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