This noon I do not sleep, I do not wake, I do not die, I do not live br Time enters the room through the window, until this noon I did not know my hand, my own thin hand is a lyre br You grab the hand like a musician grabs his instrument from elbow to index finger and you look at it as if br 'what a wonderful thing it is' br Your lips fall from the peak of the finger on flashed the major and minor notes, on and on br In my palm you discover a red vein, what a surprise, it trembles, which until this noon I did not know br br I knew nothing about water, land, and sky before this noon br I do not sleep, I do not wake, I do not die, I do not live only a bird br comes and lands on my face br A village falls like a stone into the river and the river changes its direction br Since that time, there is a stream of hill water in place of my home, I do not drown, I do not float, I do not fly br br I am not more than this stream, if you cup me in your hands, you can refresh yourself br I can do no work except splash your face br The time for your swim has come… br br You sink your head under the water and search out my eyes by holding your breath br You press your lips against my closed eyes and I remember my wolf's life, my scorpion's life, my python's life br my killer's life and the life of hiding in the forest br Once I promised to have you in my lips and after so many ages I have come to keep that promise br Now nobody will come here, only your head will come down to my lap br br Again we'll search out one another, the pressure of your lips caught the life of this noon br This noon is a stream that is still, under this stream we will lie together we will not sleep we will not wake br we will not die and we were never born br br because in this stream the time has stopped--- because br br now we are making love br br br [Translated from 'Ei Ekta Dupur' (Bengali) by Skye Lavin and Joy Goswami]br br Joy Goswamibr br