Ag díol bláthanna, inniu
Tá sí féin iompaithe
Ina flós fíorálainn
Chun neachtar a colainne a shú aisti
Ar nós bumbóga, tá scata fear óg
Ag crónán thart uirthi
Inniu, is é an seoladh atá aici
Caolsráid rúnda sa mhargadh:
Chun streachailt in aghaidh an ocrais
Tá a colainn iompaithe ina siopa aici
An bhean óg úd, ina seasamh ag críoch-stad an bhus
Nó ag siúl i measc an tslua ar an gcosán
Nuair a fhaigheann siad spléachadh uirthi, iompaíonn
Na fir óga chéanna a súile uaithi is téann i bhfolach
Laistiar de sháraí a gcéile mná
An bhean óg úd is duine de scata ban óg í
Agus anois níl sí ag brath ar éinne níos mó
Ardaíonn sí a dhá lámh chun na spéire
Faoi mar is eol di go bhféadfadh sí greim a fháil orthu –
Réaltaí geala ag bogadh, ag preabarnach, pláinéid, réaltbhuíonta
Parimal Hansda
That Young Woman Who Sells Flowers
That young woman who, standing by the roadWas selling flowers, today
She herself has turned into a
Very beautiful flower
To suck the nectar of her body
Like bumblebees, buzzing around her are so many
Young men
Today, her address is
A hidden alley in the market
Where, to fight her hunger
She has turned her body into a shop
That young woman, when she stands at the bus terminus
Or walks in the midst of people on the footpath
Then, on spotting her, those very young men
Avert their eyes and hide
Behind the open ends of the saris of their women
That young woman is one of the many young women
And now she is not dependent on anyone anymore
She raises both her hands towards the sky
As if she knows that she would be able to touch and hold
The moving, glowing, blinking stars, planets, constellations
