KAVITHA SABABATHI

 A POEM BY 

KAVITHA SABABATHI

Translated into English by Latha Ramakrishnan(*First Draft)

FOAM

Stars are but those soap-foam bubbles

blown by Moon

So an imagination

blown by a child

and written by someone

I vaguely remember

 

Even memories are

mere foam

of the waves of remembrance

 

Dreams are the foam-bubbles

of sleep

Flowers, the foam-bubbles

of plants.

 

In the boiling milk

Joy surging as foam

Only because the virgin sea keeps

foaming non-stop

it remains blue.

 

In the tea-cup the surging foam

as the hot tea is made to turn warm

The foam that surges

when Beer is poured in the cup

prove tasty and soothing to the core

 

Words are the foam of poetry

The cascade writes in foams

the evergreen song of mountain-woods.

 

Like the wild stream that

with surging foam

dashing itself on the rocks

and so washing and rinsing itself,

Banging against Age

and causing foams of grey hair

forever

the sullied river called Life

keeps soaking and cleansing itself

all the while.