Relationship

Poem By Kamala Das

This love older than I by myriad
Saddened centuries was once a prayer
In his bones that made them grow in years of
Adolescence to this favored height; yes,
It was my desire that made him male
And beautiful, so that when at last we
Met, to believe that once I knew not his
Form, his quiet touch, or the blind kindness
Of his lips was hard indeed. Betray me?
Yes, he can, but never physically
Only with words that curl their limbs at
Touch of air and die with metallic sighs.
Why care I for their quick sterile sting, while
My body's wisdom tells and tells again
That I shall find my rest, my sleep, my peace
And even death nowhere else but here in
My betrayer's arms...

Comments about Relationship

My body's wisdom tells and tells again That I shall find my rest, my sleep, my peace And even death nowhere else but here in My betrayer's arms... touching expression with impresive theme. Beautiful poem.
What a jewel of a poem both in uniqueness and something of a personal nature in between the lines, I see why you are ranked so high among the top poets, bravo! !
Once i knew not his form! ! Thanks for sharing this poem with us.
A superb poem from a great Indian poetess. With a touch of philosophical thought it brought the union of Shiva and shakti to mind. Their desire the cause of creation carrying all the nuances of love.....in a beautiful poetic expression.
Conviction in the relationship is superb.


Rating Card

3,7 out of 5
19 total ratings

Other poems of DAS

Krishna

Your body is my prison, Krishna,
I cannot see beyond it.

The Looking Glass

Getting a man to love you is easy
Only be honest about your wants as
Woman. Stand nude before the glass with him

My Grandmother's House

There is a house now far away where once
I received love……. That woman died,
The house withdrew into silence, snakes moved
Among books, I was then too young

The Freaks

He talks, turning a sun-stained
Cheek to me, his mouth, a dark
Cavern, where stalactites of
Uneven teeth gleam, his right

Words

All round me are words, and words and words,
They grow on me like leaves, they never
Seem to stop their slow growing