The sea and I
I might not be the roaring sea myself
But I am the Sea’s roar
I am the mouth of the sea in tide
I might not be `the mighty tidal wave
That sweeps away East and West and blots out North and South’
I am the tidal wave’s very symbol
When it rises the sea becomes a wave
And in fall it turns into water.
In a slavery it is the sweat and in revolt blood
Lying low like the solid, when aroused
It becomes agrarian revolution
Itself a commodity, pathway and a direction,
A ship and mariner’s compass
In defeat alienated,
The sea gets to know itself when it turns into a raging storm.
When the storm drowns me
It is no call
It is the sea merging me with her
It is me knowing that I too am the sea.
The sea has no liberty nor do I
The sea is in great disorder
And I too am caught in it.
I am a drop of water
Seeking liberty
In the liberty of the sea
In the liberty that is real and true
***
January 1983
Translated by KVR