translation of poem by sarman

peacock

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

 peacocks i painted

in my childhood,

neither elegant nor lovely,

strolled lively

in my yards and orchards.

in my lofty years

saw a sales-boy

on the sideway

trading in peacock oil.

 

scrapped  and stuffed peacocks

stood in raw

with sublime elegance.

they remembered

charcoal  lines

on the ancient walls;

the feather-kids,

born in books and

flown to hillocks.

 

now my children drawn

in indiscriminate hues,

the peacocks on the roadside,

the indiscoverable woods

in their mortal eyes