Black Marigolds (Chaurapanchasika) · 1919
17
Translated by E. Powys Mathers (Black Marigolds, 1919)
Even now
I seem to see my prison walls come close,
Built up of darkness, and against that darkness
A girl no taller than my breast and very tired,
Leaning upon the bed and smiling, feeding
A little bird and lying slender as ash-trees,
Sleepily aware as I told of the green
Grapes and the small bright-coloured river flowers.
Cite this text
MLA
Bilhana. Black Marigolds (Chaurapanchasika), 17. Translated by E. Powys Mathers. Poetry Codex, poetrycodex.com/work/black-marigolds-mathers/16/.
Chicago
Bilhana. Black Marigolds (Chaurapanchasika), 17. Translated by E. Powys Mathers. Poetry Codex. https://poetrycodex.com/work/black-marigolds-mathers/16/.