When Two Women Love When two women love the poetry of one will taste of fruit juices, the other one’s nights will be fragrant with elanji flowers.
When they touch each other, they will find the same patches of burnt flesh at the same place same depth and roasted to the same extent.
In the flood of words, they will caress and heal all the wounds of memory.
When they are in an embrace the vales of the desert in their hearts will fill up.
One will remind the other that they must kiss the fingers first. In the forefinger of the one who wrote her until she matured as a woman, the other one will hear the buzz of honeybees.
When they exchange sharp glances, four petals of a frangipani flower will light up in the moonlight.
One will blush redder than the hibiscus. The other’s heart will gallop faster than a horses’ hooves.
They will sigh together wishing that they blossom like an elanji when they kiss each other, that one be submerged in the other’s last poem, that flowering vines grow between their fingers , that the summer be on its way out.
Elanji: The bakul tree, or Spanish cherry. Elenji flowers have a heady fragrance. Malayalis estranged from Kerala feel its nostalgic pull.
Translated from the Malayalam by Ra Sh
Likhita Das teaches journalism. She has published five collections of poetry in Malayalam.
Ra Sh (Ravi Shanker N.) is a poet and translator based in Palakkad, Kerala. He has published four collections of poetry, including Architecture of Flesh and Bullet Train and Other Loaded Poems, and a chapbook, In the Mirror, Our Graves, written jointly with Ritamvara Bhattacharya. He has also published a play titled Blind Men Write. He has translated several Malayalam poems into English and anthologised them in How to Translate an Earthworm.