Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Kamal Vora

No. 24 He was a he-man

No. 24 
 
He was a he-man. 
 
When he walked, chest out, 
he looked like a lion  
on the prowl. 
 
One roar was enough 
to make kids pee in their pants. 
 
The sight of his pursed lips 
was enough to make 
the women of his household scatter. 
 
His sharp eyes 
were enough to pierce 
your soul. 
 
His footfall 
made a great hush descend everywhere. 
 
He could run up a mountain 
without breaking a sweat. 
 
Warriors swore by his valour. 
 
The same he-man 
collapses, 
crushed   
by an incomplete cough  
between one breath 
and the next.

No. 24 He was a he-man

૨૪
 

ભડવીર હતો
છાતી કાઢીને ટટ્ટાર ચાલતો ત્યારે
શિકારે નીકળેલો સાવજ લાગતો
એક ત્રાડે
છૈયાં-છોરાંનાં મૂતર છૂટી જતાં
હોઠ ભિડાતા જોઈ
વહુવારુઓ આઘીપાછી થઇ જતી
કરડી નજર
સામેવાળાને વીંધી નાખતી
એનાં પગલાંનો અવાજ
સોપો પાડી દેતો
એક હડીએ ડુંગર ખૂંદી કાઢતો
નરપુંગવો એના નામના સોગન ખાતા
ભડવીર ગણાતો
એ જ
શ્વાસ અને
ઉચ્છ્વાસ વચ્ચે અટકી ગયેલી ઉધરસથી
પરાસ્ત થઈ
ઢળી
પડયો છે

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No. 24 He was a he-man

No. 24 
 
He was a he-man. 
 
When he walked, chest out, 
he looked like a lion  
on the prowl. 
 
One roar was enough 
to make kids pee in their pants. 
 
The sight of his pursed lips 
was enough to make 
the women of his household scatter. 
 
His sharp eyes 
were enough to pierce 
your soul. 
 
His footfall 
made a great hush descend everywhere. 
 
He could run up a mountain 
without breaking a sweat. 
 
Warriors swore by his valour. 
 
The same he-man 
collapses, 
crushed   
by an incomplete cough  
between one breath 
and the next.

No. 24 He was a he-man

No. 24 
 
He was a he-man. 
 
When he walked, chest out, 
he looked like a lion  
on the prowl. 
 
One roar was enough 
to make kids pee in their pants. 
 
The sight of his pursed lips 
was enough to make 
the women of his household scatter. 
 
His sharp eyes 
were enough to pierce 
your soul. 
 
His footfall 
made a great hush descend everywhere. 
 
He could run up a mountain 
without breaking a sweat. 
 
Warriors swore by his valour. 
 
The same he-man 
collapses, 
crushed   
by an incomplete cough  
between one breath 
and the next.
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Prins Bernhard cultuurfonds
Lira fonds
Versopolis
J.E. Jurriaanse
Gefinancierd door de Europese Unie
Elise Mathilde Fonds
Stichting Verzameling van Wijngaarden-Boot
Veerhuis
VDM
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère