Creative Writing

Light has blossomed
within the night’s electric lamps.
Corralled by the low fences
of the park, sheep lie listless, chewing
arugam grass and ilisari leaves,
fine-tuning a sense of normality.
 
Do they possess
secret memories that scald and sting?
Thoughts gambling between recollection
and amnesia. Yearning, day upon day.
 
As the teacup that falls
and breaks, as the petal wing
that floats above the head,
or merely as a plain, still void:
in such shapes I might have
appeared to you.
 
Never missing a moment,
you are in front of me.
an enduring absence.

-    Anar

     Translated by Hari Rajaledchumy