translation of the poem of sasthrasarman

the foresaken home

<<<<<<<((((((()))))))>>>>>>>

'do not squeek,'

the doors whispered.

they had the same murmurs.

they were the embodyment of

the same silence.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

the unmanned house

like a child,

after an oiled bath,

sleeps on the spread of dreams,

silent

like an island

hearing the lullabies of the earth

and the whispers of the stars

from the waves.

like a boat on the bank

greedy to sink

in the hues of dawn.

in the witching hour,

the window panes

shudder into a rise

with their open eyes

beckon

the infinities

the sleepless sounds

of the panting woods

the unmanned house,

mulched in the moonlight,

orphaned in the cool,

calm,

tranquil.