Shadow Over the City
The Sun, with his throat slit, lay entombed in the hills in horrible bloody vomit.
Infant moon, still-born, floats up in the blackness of night, red and repulsive.
Stars stare too scared, stuttering in hiccups.
Only the darkness smiled, smugly blissful.
Like a time-bomb ticking hidden in a silencer-box,
The city’s pulse throbs in the womb of curfew.
Religion, the midwife, comes to assist in delivering deaths,
Ripping through the hearts with battle-axes.
Somewhere, the future breathes its last, murdered by the past.
Among the dark clouds like black devils,
Lightning pierces through like a broadsword.
On the unpopulated streets,
Street lamps converse with shuttered kiosks.
Even behind bolted doors, bodies tremble, hearts shudder.
Among the thatched huts, little lamp flames fluttering in the breeze
Metamorphose into machetes, severing throats – that’s the metaphysical truth.
Prison-barred windows; snake-like shadows.
The big hand of the clock, at 12 midnight,
Murdered the small hand in its death-grip.
The seconds hand, like a scorpion’s sting,
Continues to strike at the heart.
The Telugu poem in my voice
నే చదివిన తెలుగు పద్యం
A request: Please show this translation to your friends who do not know Telugu. What did they think? Does the translation read like a poem? Were they able to understand it? Did they think some further explanations were necessary to appreciate the poem better? Let me know.