(Translation from Punjabi by Nirupama Dutt)

Dance

When the labourer woman
Roasts her heart on the tawa
The moon laughs from behind the tree
The father amuses the younger one
Making music with bowl and plate
The older one tinkles the bells
Tied to his waste
And he dances
These songs do not die
nor either the dance in the heart …


Caste

You love me, do you?
Even though you belong
to another caste
But do you know
our elders do not
even cremate their dead
at the same place?


Words

Words have been uttered
long before us
and
for long after us
Chop off every tongue
if you can
but the words have
still been uttered