KUNWAR NARAIN, INDIA

Sravasti

Time descends – a day ends -
a nameless evening passes
with bowed head and folded hands.

From nowhere come to mind
spent civilizations in the casks of ruins…

No,
not at all lost of the legend that,
like a haloed name, echoing
suddenly from the horizon, keeps echoing

In the roving saint winds of Jetvan,
the touch of those absences
past whom, a meaning in life
still remains.

Before turning him away empty-handed

Why does he have to come back
again and again into the same world
carrying that same empty vessel?

Why does he have to go back
each time the same way
empty-handed

Putting a fistful of grain
look into his bowl
           Is what we gave
perhaps not smaller than his modesty?

Look not only at his bare earthen urn
but at his eyes full of compassion
Is the beggar come to our door
perhaps not Buddha himself?

Kunwar Narain

 

Kunwar NARAIN was born in 1927 and spent his early years in the twin cities of Ayodhya and Faizabad before coming to Lucknow, now living in Delhi.

His literary work, written in Hindi, comprises poetry, epic poems, short stories, literary criticism, essays, translations and various writings on art.

His oeuvre has been translated internationally and nationally and his many honours include several awards in India and abroad (Warsaw University’s honorary medal, Premio Feronia in Italy etc.).

He is one of the major Indian literary figures in India today.