ar nós fuinneoga caocha i dtithe folmha
is gan éinne iontu a lasfadh solas go neamhchúiseach
ar a shlí tríd an seomra tosaigh
féachaint an raibh an doras faoi ghlas.
stánann siad sa dorchadas
lampaí sráide á léiriú acu ar phánaí gloine
macallaí ag baint preab astu ina gciúnas féin
ag súil go marbhánta le teacht an dóchais
i gclúdach donn
ina mbeadh glaoch chun agallaimh nó cuireadh chun bainise
is ar a bhfuil seoladh Mr Ker nach gcónaíonn anseo níos mó.
Lakshmi Arya
Evening Poems
Evening poems are likeblind windows of empty houses
where no-one indifferently turns on a light
while passing through the
front room to check if the door is locked.
they stare in the dark
reflecting street lamps on glass panes
and startle at echoes in their own silences
waiting vacantly for hope to arrive
in brown envelopes
bearing interview calls or wedding invitations
addressed to Mr. Kar who no longer lives here.
http://pratilipi.in/evening-poems-lakshmi-arya/
