His Hug

There are downs in his hug

That fan out all temporal afflictions.

While the six passions subside,

Reassurance rules the roost.

Many a time

My heart-breaks ran down his falcate neck,

And on his prickly little bony chest

My cheeks washed their wounds.

Like a woe-less plain unfolding

In a vacuous world, all of a sudden

There hid in his little hands

A fears-less plain one stumbles upon nowhere.

Can anybody love me as hearty and pure?

Or, having been born my babe,

Makes me a babe, in turn, other than him?

Assuaging my life’s angst,

Clearing my dreamy hours

And sweeping aside, with a turn of his hand

My shattered moments of grief

Can anybody bring the light of happiness to my eyes,

Other than him?

In his embrace there is

An endless expanse of enduring maternity.

Did anybody hug me like that ever before?

Did anybody run his hand over my head

Draining off my pangs and pains?

Did anybody dry my eyes

Becoming a father and mother same time?

Assigning his five years to his mom

And growing to a love-incarnate

From his broke-mother’s agonies,

He dresses her wounds with his caressing kisses.

As though to garland me with his heart

He runs into my hands, hugs me,

Draws my head unto him,

And resurrects me from anguish time and again.

Yes!

There are stately steps of assured peace in his hug

Enough to crown me for a thousand lives.

....................

Translated by N.S.Murthy