Black Marigolds (Chaurapanchasika) · 1919
13
Translated by E. Powys Mathers (Black Marigolds, 1919)
Even now
Death sends me the flickering of powdery lids
Over wild eyes and the pity of her slim body
All broken up with the weariness of joy;
The little red flowers of her breasts to be my comfort
Moving above scarves, and for my sorrow
Wet crimson lips that once I marked as mine.
Cite this text
MLA
Bilhana. Black Marigolds (Chaurapanchasika), 13. Translated by E. Powys Mathers. Poetry Codex, poetrycodex.com/work/black-marigolds-mathers/12/.
Chicago
Bilhana. Black Marigolds (Chaurapanchasika), 13. Translated by E. Powys Mathers. Poetry Codex. https://poetrycodex.com/work/black-marigolds-mathers/12/.