Poetry at Sangam
Poetry at Sangam showcases poetry in English and translations as well as essays on poetics and news of new releases.
Translated from original Marathi by Jerry Pinto and Neela Bhagwat
On a branch of the formless, a cradle is tied,
And Muktai’s son is lying inside.
Sleep, sleep, little one, no words are needed,
That one-hand clapping can go unheeded.
There’s no sleep now, so why talk of waking?
Just this alertness, this awareness breaking.
This state has no name but it lets you see,
Turn your eye inwards; now you float free.
In this cradle you’ve spun, now drift at your ease,
Rocked by the mind, still tied to the breeze.
Six hours of rocking, his gaze still steady.
Muktai tells Changya: wake, listen, be ready.
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