Nissim Ezekiel: ​Island

Unsuitable for song as well as sense

the island flowers into slums
and skyscrapers, reflecting
precisely the growth of my mind.
I am here to find my way in it.

Sometimes I cry for help

but mostly keep my own counsel.
I hear distorted echoes
of my own ambiguous voice
and of dragons claiming to be human.

Bright and tempting breezes

flow across the island,
separating past from future;
then the air is still again
as I sleep the sleep of ignorance.

How delight the soul with absolute

sense of salvation, how
hold to a single willed direction?
I cannot leave the island,
I was born here and belong.

Even now a host of miracles

hurries me to daily business,
minding the ways of the island
as a good native should,
taking calm and clamour in my stride.

from ​Collected Poems,​ 1989

Namdeo Dhasal:​Mumbai, My Beloved Whore

Years, years after years

They can’t return to their place of origin
A great deal lost
A good deal gained
Time offers no solace
Save for me just one moment of pain
I won’t go away from you
Like a ragged beggar
Mumbai
My beloved whore
I’ll rob you and then go

You be faithful to us
You warm up our beds
Play the flute of Eternity
Play around with our dreams
Breathe fire into our sperms
O footloose hussy
O churlish slut
O Khandoba’s concubine
O wanton coquette
O whore with the heart of gold
I won’t go away from you like a ragged beggar
I’ll strip you to your bone
Come, throw open the gates of heaven to the poor devils
Mumbai, my beloved whore
I’ll take you for a ride
I’ll strike you dumb
And go.

Excerpts translated from Marathi by Mangesh Kulkarni and Abhay Sardesai

from​Poetry and the City (Bombay: Mosaic of Modern Culture)
eds. Sujata Patel and Alice Thorner, 1995