Murari Sinha Poet Prose Poetry

Canto of Begging - 5 To 7

5. 
all long the day i beg 

i beg rice pulses oil salt 
royal blood

in exchange i also distribute
peace… peace… and peace…

and the horses of the gypsies making 
a dip-swimming in the peace-water

in the canto of my begging 
holding a whole body of love 
i learn how to be burnt 
by the shadow of the trees  

i give up all my courage 
to book a room in your youth 
only for me 

6. 
going upstairs on the railway foot-bridge 
i see the strong light of neon-lamps

the girl from the avtar of the flex
induced trance

the aroma of chhatim-flower in the air
and the song of a blind-beggar 
with tambourine

those neon-light flex-women 
beggar’s-song and flower odour 
i see they are all alive 
in the canto of my begging

under the evening-star

7. 
in the canto of my begging 
at the day’s end
the moon that rises behind the rain-tree

i put up in her hands 
the lemon-leaves the water-balloons the goal-kicks
that i have had throughout the day 
by begging 

and i beg from her the magic-wand 
by the touch of which the date-palm 
that was someday burnt by a thunder-bolt 
in front of the church
looks very infatuating 

and my dress as a beggar gradually
becomes a royal-dress

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