(43) Epistolary to Dear Mother in Heaven, Narayan Bhattarai, Translated by Poet

In a stone house with thatched roof
At the firewood stove…the chulo

An elderly woman in a velvet sari
Plays hide and seek in a cloud of smoke.

I woke up with memories of the
Flat mark of load on your forehead and the unwritten history:

That fateful morning, falling from a swinging bamboo tree
you narrowly escaped death to bless me on my forehead

I still cherish the cool touch of your lips
Mom, you always dreamed of something big

Big house, big cowshed, goat shed, and a chicken coop.
But you’re naked in the pyre disappearing in the flames of fire.

I missed you in morsels of festive dishes and the lively stories.
My daughter recalls of a lonely old lady in a faraway village

Working head to toe to meet the needs of
five children, a dozen animals, on barren land.