You couldn’t even give a home,
what mansion will you give?
Just fill my begging bowl with alms,
what treasures will you give?
You left this blameless babe alone,
by calling it your sin,
To buy its docile silence now,
what premiums will you give?
Your whole society knows my name,
so many times I come.
Beyond this gossiped existence,
what stature will you give?
You shut your ears, lightning-quick,
before my thunderous roars.
I am a cloud, I’m meant to cry,
what license will you give?
When love itself you couldn’t give
in all these barren years,
So late in this relationship,
what respect will you give?
The only thing you still can give,
O Misra, is your name.
Beyond my own identity,
what birthright will you give?
Translated from my Hindi poem, “क्या दोगे”
kyā doge
ghar nahīn de pāye imārat kyā doge
ye kāsā bhar do bākī doulat kyā doge
cHoD gaye is māsūm ko galtī bulā kar
ab iskī Khamoshī kī kimat kyā doge
nām jāntā hai sārā mohallā tumhārā
ab is-se bhi zyādā shouharat kyā doge
band kar lete ho kān mujhe garajta dekh
bādal hūn rone kī ijazat kyā doge
mohabbat to tumse kabhī dī hī nahīn gayī
ab der ho gayī hai ab izzat kyā doge
sakte ho to do mujhe nām apnā ‘Misra’
pehchān se badī ab virāsat kyā doge
Minakhi Misra 