Mother's Dream by Gopal Prasad Rimal

Mother's Dream
--Gopal Prasad Rimal

“Does that come, mother?”
“Yes dear. That comes.
That comes illuminating like the morning sun.
You’ll see a weapon hanging down his waist
Bright like dew drop;
And he will fight the evil.
You will turn doubtful: taking the arrival for dream
But he comes more palpable
Than fire and snow.”
“Is it so, mother?”
“Yes, at the birth I hoped to perceive
His shadow, on your countenance;
His image, in your baby-cute smile;
His voice, in your babbles;
Alas! That sweet song could not make
You his flute.
It was my youthful dream
That that was you.
Whatever may that be, that comes.
As a mother, I can assert with the voice of creativity:
That comes.
This is no lazy dream of mine.
You won’t be helpless upon my lap
And listen to such stories as if hypnotized
After he comes.You will be able to see, tolerate and
Assume him on your own.
You will say good bye to your mother
Consoling her to go to the war,
Instead of getting mother’s consolation like now.
Like a diseased one,
I won’t have to massage your hair thus.
You will see, that will come like storm
And you will follow like a leaf.
Long ago, every dead heart had felt tremor
At his arrival like the moon light from the sky.
Yes. That will come: You will rise.”
“I think that will come, mother.
Hope of his arrival has grown goose on my body
Like the throats of birds at dawn.”
Yes, that comes.
That comes illuminating like the morning sun.
Now I leave.”
•••
“But, it was my youthful dream
That that was you.”

Translated by:
Komal Prasad Phuyal
komalprasadphuyal@gmail.com

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