Fall of Dreams | Dipa Mewahang Rai | Hem Bishwakarma

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THE FALL OF DREAMS
a collection of translated poems

Deepa Mewahang Rai
Translated by Hem Bishwakarma

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TO
THE BEAUTIFUL

HEARTS…
MY AAMA
MY BROTHERS
MY FRIENDS

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POEM LISTS Page
7
Poems 8
Home 10
Theatricals 11
Necessity 12
I Missed My Tomb 13
Trust 15
We May Meet, Of Course 16
Waiting 17
Birthday Gift 18
Silence 20
Footsteps 22
Dusk
Nostalgia

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POET

DEEPA MEWAHANG RAI is a poet with beautiful heart who
writes on love, humanity and against social bad-doings.
Staying temporarily in Korea, she is weaves words of choice
and chances. Her poems are powerful expressions of her
experience and emotion.

TRANSLATOR

HEM BISHWAKARMA is a translator and poet based in Nepal.
His works are notably published in national and international
literary platforms.

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POEMS

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Home

Father's leg strode
So strong on earth
And became they—the pillars

Mothers spread her lap
And became the even floor

For the last chance
They both caught their hands
So tight—
That sufficed the roof

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THEATRICALS

My life stands
On the theatre
Hiding tears deep into eyes

Spreading dramatic chortle
Rally in the overwhelm
hiding the pain in heart

It is so because
I ought to sustain
On the theatre
Until the curtain drops!

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You are that sunshine in my life
That every morning fetch to me!

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NECESSITY
Ask the lonely tree
To the roadside
That stands for years on end
How does it sound
The need of relation

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I MISSED MY TOMB

While walking
For a thorn prickled my foot
I missed slippers

While watching distant far
For eyes watched blur
I missed a couple of specs

While living my life
For my people unkempt
I missed help from strangers

Then I reflected my life
Nothing is the life
I missed the tomb

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TRUST
He tells me,
"You are the moon in my life;
Under your beam
I can make a lengthy walk
Blindfolded."

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WE MAY MEET, OF COURSE

We may suddenly meet
In the crowded street or peopled chowk
Inside a room of a conference hall
Or enslaved of situation
Surely, we meet.

We could meet
While plunging into the water of memory
At hiccups
Or deeply observing own shadows
But surely, we meet.

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We could meet
On the dewdrops
On the tune of a melancholic singer
Or the sound of broken strings
But surely, we meet.

I don't know if I wail
For the happiness or pain
I will have my eyes filled with tears

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WAITING
You can't worth
How eagerly a mother waits for months
For the parturition of a blood-lump
That is budding in her womb

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BIRTHDAY GIFT
Every drop of tears
That I drip from my eyes

Every unslept night
I spent

Every painful time
I lived by

Every bit of the trust
I had in my heart

Weaving all them one
I have prayed for you
A gift on your Birthday

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SILENCE
For a long time, we met
Our words to be said
Winged and vanished
In a puff of air
Wordless we
Our silence—
Dialogued for a long hour.

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FOOTSTEPS

Hundreds of flying dreams
Airing above the skies
Long to crash into a solitary forest

An old tree at the margin
Left helpless
The roadside shade lost its coolness
The buds of roses wear pale
Sorry,
Life is gliding as a wheelchair

Dreams become numb-cold

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And run marathon on chest
A morgue peeps and teases
An Everest of pain scales
Incessantly the footsteps stride
Yet to move uncounted footsteps

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DUSK
Lost the rosiness of horizon
Chorused the crickets
Flew a herd of birds for rest
Unveiled the shy moon slowly
Stars welcomed showering flowers
Oh, dusk!
Why do I utterly like you?

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As a crystal sky after rain
As a golden dawn

Breaking the drape of deep darkness
I am unclouded on your advent

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Nostalgia

The footsteps
that we gave a gentle step!
The purpose of our dream
That we aspired together

The rocks along and across the path
The queued dubo1 grass
The banyan and poplar platform–
The onlookers of our talk
Are still wakeful, you know!

1 Cynodon dactylon, known as Bermuda grass
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Being with your nostalgia
It's just a moment ago
A drizzle of your reminiscence
Shattered me went off!

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This is a venture to showcase Nepali flavor of literature to the

global arena that await to extend to the vast readers of
translated literature. Literature is a reflection of culture and
society. We have tried our best to incorporate language and
its nuances to sound best in 'their' tone.
Though it is tough to serve the original taste in any other
language; I, as a translator, have endeavored not to harm its
originality and tonality of the poet.
I love to hear from you.
Thank you!

Hem Bishwakarma
Itahari
[email protected]

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We
are
always
grateful
to
valued
readers.

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