An Anthology of Contemporary Nepali Poetry

Thakur Belbase

A Man like a Landslide

A man is a complex chain of landslides
That begins its journey from the midst of a landslide
To reach to a shelter that rests on the landslide itself

In such a long odyssey of life
It's not that we never meet fellow travelers 
But their hearts are like 
The newly built motorways in the remote hills
Where huge aspirations crumble in landslides 
In every steps

Keeping the landslide in amnesia 
Even when the life tries to flow like Marsyangdi
But it also flow through the landslides 

The river too
Is not obstructed by the landslides

This sun that accompanies in the journey
Temples that we met in our passage
They are all in the landslides

It seems there is nothing left
Besides these landslides
It is itself an exploration of landslides 
When you try to climb the hill of dreams
Keeping aside the remnants of the landslides  
If there were no landslides
Where would be the life!
Man is a landslide
And the landslide a man

Who knows!
Anyone can be trapped
In anyone's crumbling!

		(Translated from Nepali by Keshab Sigdel)

Face of the Misery

How did I stop
From being transformed into a flood itself
While I was flowing in the flood?

How did I save myself 
From being transformed into a precarious slope
While I was climbing down the landslide?
From being a maddened oxen 
By being a storm oneself 
After perilous battle with the storm

Thank God!
I didn't pray you 
To relieve me from these crises 

Battling with these crises
I have become a highway
For the pains and miseries

Let your shadow 
Not cast upon me 
Nothing is more loving and sacred for me
Compared to his sky of crises

I have this gushing flood
I have with me the landslide
Like the image of an insane
And together with me has come 
The storm like a young soldier 
Intoxicated with wine

Now, my identity has turned into
This flood
This landslide, and
This terrifying storm

As if I am destined 
To suffer all the crises of the world
As if the laughter is denied for me
And joy not allowed

In the crowd of men
I am like a no-man

It's a wonder
To think how I came here

Tell me, oh my god!
Do you have any other form of misery left for me?

		(Translated from Nepali by Keshab Sigdel)