Possession of the Dead's Ledger

 
If sorrow could be weighed upon some scale,
this world would tip the balance a hundredfold heavier!


If there were laws for rising after death,
I would have died countless, uncountable times!


When it strikes me that someone touches you,
kisses you gently, that you love someone,
that your heart goes to auction in someone's name,
then, believe me, I live as if I've died that very instant!


To whom did you first say "I love you"?
To whom did you surrender youth's first passion?
Whom did you first bind with a kiss?
Whom did you truly love first?


Even once in life, for a single moment,
you held another woman's hand,
bound her in love and passion—
to think of it, death comes without hesitation!


Each time you placed flowers in another's hair,
each time you brushed another woman's tresses,
each time you kissed another's eyes,
each time you held hands with another love,
each time you walked down another path,
each time you poured love into another heart,
...that many times I've died and rotted a million times over,
swallowed tears, smiled through buried pain in rage!
You never kept that count, never will.


When someone, thinking of you,
looks in the mirror wearing a blue sari,
draws red and black dots on her forehead,
calls you by some special name—
a name no one else calls you,
then, believe me, I can count and tell you exactly
how many breaths sit upon my upper lip!


You are not mine, will never be—
even this much I can accept!
But that you belong to someone else—
when this thought enters my head, truly,
blood boils and murder presses down!
God forgot to give me the strength to bear even that much!
Or does no one ever gain such strength?


If this world's deaths could all be counted,
almost the entire ledger of the dead would be mine alone!