Gedicht
Joy Goswami
A DREAM-DEAD PEACOCK, MOON
A dream-dead peacock, moonlight on its skin
A prickly-pear
room on the roof
Dried and ancient
the thorn-pierced bodies of birds
The susurrus of winds,
notes, calls in their throats
The dead peacock stands –
aglitter with fireflies
Hanging from its shackle the moon,
a pendulum, swaying
black trees, melting away
houses of brick and stone
The dream-dead peacock,
its clear eyes, open
© Translation: 2005, Sampurna Chattarji
A DREAM-DEAD PEACOCK, MOON
© 1999, Joy Goswami
From: Surjo-Pora Chhai
Publisher: Ananda Publishers, Kolkata
From: Surjo-Pora Chhai
Publisher: Ananda Publishers, Kolkata
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A DREAM-DEAD PEACOCK, MOON
From: Surjo-Pora Chhai
A DREAM-DEAD PEACOCK, MOON
A dream-dead peacock, moonlight on its skin
A prickly-pear
room on the roof
Dried and ancient
the thorn-pierced bodies of birds
The susurrus of winds,
notes, calls in their throats
The dead peacock stands –
aglitter with fireflies
Hanging from its shackle the moon,
a pendulum, swaying
black trees, melting away
houses of brick and stone
The dream-dead peacock,
its clear eyes, open
© 2005, Sampurna Chattarji
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