This poem has been previously published in German and translated into English by Literatur und Kritik Nr. 607/608, September 2026, Otto Müller Verlag Salzburg

 

I walked the earth
so you could feel its stomach rumble,

witness the collapse
of dead stars at sea.

Take in the presence of fear
as my weary feet are set to crumble,

trace the blown-out scars
carved into my right knee.

On a distant road,
I abandoned our family totem and kin.

On the edge of a bridge,
I tried to reclaim the shore.

At the refuge,
they stripped us of our names and skin.

Underneath the bedsheets,
tears ran ‘til my eyes could bear no more.

When you were born,
a blanket flower I ought to plant—

for you arrived in this world
with your tiny legs shivering.

You grew up
to be a bush elephant.

Questions trampled
around our dinner table every evening.

And somewhere,
our words of worship fell to whispers.

You wanted out
of the shadows that portrayed us best.

I watched you step
towards the latter with blisters—

you climbed the mountain
of reasoning, knowing no rest.

Where you’re heading, dear,
my heart can’t follow.

Everywhere you go,
my footprint already went.

All that is left of this shell
from someone’s past is hollow.

Every prayer you hold,
my spirit has already knelt and bent.

I want you to believe
that I lost my way back home.

And time gave me
no other choice but to defer.

Still, I dream of the land
our ancestors used to roam about—

Freely,
how beautiful we were.

 

 

 

 

 

Photo by Ramesh Iyer on Unsplash