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[goldenboat.livejournal.com]

I can but why should I go
By Shakti Chattopadhyay

I think I should turn around and stand
So much black I have smeared with these two hands,
all these years!
I have never thought of you as you really are.
Now when I stand beside the pit at night.
The moon calls out:Come!
Now when I stand drowsy on the Ganga's bank,
The wood of the pyre calls :Come!

I can go.
I can go any way I want to.
But why should I?
I shall plant a kiss on my child's face.

Go, I will.
But not now.
I shall take you all along.
I will not go alone before my time.