In the newspaper's "wanted" column,
I seek the face of my future,
every assembly, every speech,
I look through the files of each new plan.1
On the lips of the new budget
I seek some reassurance,
from radio announcements I beg
two words of consolation;
my family's age I measure
with a new pay scale, made young again
by the news of each vacant post;
each time I hear from my interviews,
life stinks like sweat in an armpit.
Somebody is mixing despair
into even my mother's love,
even in my father's encouraging words
a cold, impatient sigh can be heard.
It is as if vermilion fears
the parting of my daughter's hair,2
and my wife is always serving up
satire on my plate.
An age has passed:
with a face like an application letter,
I have wandered from door to door,
I have called from house to house.
A cold sleep always tries to engulf me,
I know that if I sleep this time
I shall never wake again.
Oh you who form lines like caterpillars,
chant more slogans, chant them loud;
I do not want to sleep today.
Wake me up! Wake me up!
Bhupi Sherchan (1936 - 1989) Nepal
Translated Michael James Hurt
Source: Himalayan Voices An Introduction to Modern Nepali Literature, Translated and Edited by Michael James Hurt, University of California Press, 1991
- The plan is the five-year plan for national development drawn up by the government of Nepal.
- Vermilion paste is applied to the parting of a woman's hair when she is married. The speaker means that he cannot arrange his daughter's marriage because he has no income.
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