Small Town Thoughts

I grew up in the small town

      acquiring an affection for the forest

and landscape and the quiet houses.

      --Yevtushenko, Zima Junction 
 

My feelings are mine own. No one can, nor know

How to feel the feel for the forest and rainbow 

Sad thoughts like rain filled clouds and tearing birds

That appear and disappear noon and early night. 

The insects hide deep in the brown earth

And sing. The scorpion emerges from his hidden cleft. 

All in this small town. There is also the Brainfever bird

Announcing the summer heat and the silent Iora 

Hidden in the trees. Above all there is our river.

And here our old house. It was never ours. 

My father in his spare hours painted everything green.

I have not inherited his deep distaste for nostalgia. 

When his eldest daughter died

He destroyed all that was hers. He disliked memory. 

It is like trailing one’s fingers in the water

When the slow boat turns. The cool green shadows 

Ripple, the trees are overturned. The picture

Is a soft swell now. Let us turn the other way. 

There was never any forest, nor rainbow.

Even the birds. But the houses are so quiet. 

Small town thoughts like rain filled clouds and tearing birds

Appear and disappear noon and early night.

- Murali Sivaramakrishnan