Poetry at Sangam
Poetry at Sangam showcases poetry in English and translations as well as essays on poetics and news of new releases.
Spring quartet,
Bereaved loops in rhombus air
Hanging, hanging
How a face does
On a slender neck, eyes
Always popping, never truly
Belonging to the face,
Eyes– otherworldly beings
Spring quartet,
Bereaved loops in rhombus air
Hanging in my very mouth
What is it that we mourn tonight
That has no name, no address,
Not a single word in any language?
What do we mourn
In these knots of blood
That constantly wish for rest,
That sit above the blue faded sky
Like an unborn star of light?
What do we mourn
But the emptiness of love
In these burning hands of night?
← Aakriti Kuntal