Sujata Bhatt (India, 1956)
Sujata Bhatt (India, 1956)
The voices
First, a sound from an animal
you can never imagine.
Then: insect-rustle, fish-hush.
And then the voices became louder.
Voice of an angel who is newly dead.
Voice of a child who refuses
to ever become an angel with wings.
Voice of tamarinds.
Voice of the colour blue.
Voice of the colour green.
Voice of the worms.
Voice of the white roses.
Voice of the leaves torn by goats.
Voice of snake-spit.
Voice of the placenta.
Voice of the fetal heartbeat.
Voice of the scalped skull
whose hair hangs behind glass
in a museum.
I used to think there was
only one voice.
I used to wait
patiently for that one voice to return
to begin its dictation.
I was wrong.
I can never finish counting them now.
I can never finish
writing all they have to say.
Voice of the ghost who wants
to die again, but this time
in a brighter room with fragrant flowers
and different relatives.
Voice of the frozen lake.
Voice of the fog.
Voice of the air while it snows.
Voice of the girl
who still sees unicorns
and speaks to angels she knows by name.
Voice of pine tree sap.
And then the voices became louder.
Sometimes I hear them
laughing at my confusion.
And each voice insists
and each voices knows
that it is the true one.
And each voice says: follow me
follow me and I will take you -
Tranlated by Sujata Bhatt