Kamala Das

Leave me with the birds
That fly about the grey sky;
Leave me with the flash of lightning
The thunder of every night
Of the monsoon months;
Leave me to lie
For I must linger on
Though weakened by chances
And the tears
Well up in the eyes
Weak eyes
You claim me,
I claim the birds as mine
I claim all to be mine.
Let me be all tears
And a laughter
That arouses your pity
And I claim
Nothing of the luck
That I thought of,
Irshad and Lalita
I give to you nothing
But pain of poetry,
Imperfectly read
I claim midnight  silence
In the dampness of my grief.
I claim for myself
In the kindness.
Lalita, don' t cry
You bring us your tears
An uneasy gift.
Trust upon loving mother,
Lalita, don' t cry
Don' t cry Irshad
It is my last respite
To a land of sleep
I travel while you go to Kalyan
Owing always separate ways.