I paint objects as I think them, not as I see them
—Picasso
How arduous
to restore in a painting
a mangled face
to exactly what it was before,
to piece together
the shattered pieces
and re-create them
as they were before.
Better to raze the ruins
and from the rubble
create something anew…
An eye was saved
in it some light
some signs of life in the light
In the teeth clinging to lips
still clung a laughter
child-like
In the tattered geography of a face
between two ears open like windows
a ten percent nook for the mind’s situation
was disconcerting
A nose could be pulled and straightened
up to the length of a tongue
but not raised
The rest of the body
was a mauled-up frame under the head—
that instead of being put right there
could be put from any to anywhere
to salvage what remained…
All in all
the unquiet picture that emerged
from the peril of an apocalypse
could always be
of a being
and also of a world.
First published in Modern Poetry in Translation
Excerpted from Witnesses of Remembrance: Selected Newer Poems, trans. Apurva Narain, Eka, Westland, 2021
KUNWAR NARAIN, TRANSLATED BY APURVA NARAIN