The Shared Mirror

Gurram Seetaramulu

The language of murder is the same everywhere

But we've to discover a new language to console you, child;

Bloodthirsty Uncle Sam

Has forcibly ended

Your parents' lives.

Now Gaza is bleeding

Your home has fallen;

Time is a butcher, child

Even the orchard of graves

Does not offer you a sapling.

The seed that was trampled

Under the march of the bunker busters

Promised you

A tree

Hope that grows

And offers you shade. 

My translation of Gurram Seetaramulu's untitled Telugu poem expressing solidarity with Palestinians.

Gurram Seetaramulu is a doctoral fellow at EFLU. 

Gurram Seetaramulu

Now I understand

Why you tied a pot

Below my mouth, and a broom

Around my arse!

If I spat at your ugly face,

My spit would have been defiled!

I was nourished by amniotic fluid,

Not weaned on vomit like you!

I know everyone is born

From the loins, but weren’t you born

From the mouth!

That’s why you vomit vomit!

Aren’t you a septic tank from head to toe,

With a mouth that has gone to rot

From the chanting of dishonest slokas

For ages!

Aren’t you Manu’s child

Who remains impassive

Even when spat at or

Showered with dirt!

That is why

I won’t defile my spit

By spitting at your face!

My translation of Gurram Seetaramulu's untitled Telugu poem written in protest against an attack by ABVP activists on Prof. S A R Geelani, at a Delhi University seminar in November, 2008.

Gurram Seetaramulu is a doctoral fellow at EFLU.