Diwas Kc translates a poem by Ghazal and ruminates on its meaning from the Jaipur Literature Festival for the Himal Southasian Magazine http://bit.ly/7QnPKG.
They have the audio version of the audio at the link.
NEIGHBOUR
As long as there is light in the house across from mine
the shadow of that house creeps on the wall of my room.
One wheelchair gets shoved left and right, it keeps turning.
When the pet birds of that house fight, they collide against my wall.
A cage hanging in that house now looks like a cage in my house, one window shuts close and its mesh casts a prison door on my wall.
Now everyone who passes by seems like a prisoner to me.
A naked, suspended bulb sometimes rocks back and forth
and the people start flying around in the air, like in a circus.
After some while the window is open once again. A light is on.
Two swaying shadows in embrace come to stillness on the balcony.
Perhaps they are looking at my courtyard.
Sometimes the smoke of that house makes a shadow on my wall.
Then it feels as if both houses are on fire.
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