The man
who sulked with land
stuck his head
into the sky
The pesticide that couldn't kill
the pest
swallowed the man
A lifeless
form
is putting the furrow
to sleep
The hut
with the broken supporting pole
Mother, children
like palmyra leaves in a storm
Like hunger
has many
causes
Deaths
have many, many
needs
Those (aatma)hatyas
touch thirty
tens
The hand that fed
is searching for the morsel
The sweat
that flowed in the field
is drying on the grave
A headless body
attached to its neck
a tree that had shed
its leaves
The overflowing tears
became questions
that walked
The kind-hearted
leaders say
it is
the cotton farmer's
fault
Unable
to offer a gulp of water
they offer advice:
wet your throat
with pesticide
or
liquor.
My translation of G.V.Ratnakar's Telugu poem 'tella bangAram' (from his collection of poetry 'maTTi palaka'). Written in 1998, the poet was responding to the suicides of cotton farmers.
Tags: G.V.Ratnakar