Poem
Prabodh Parikh
TREASURE HUNT
The captain of the game of dredging upcastaway words,
having weathered all the sea-storms,
having awoken,
having trawled among the blocks of printing presses,
and hauled back,
having found the golden pulse
of sunken galleons,
having waved the peace-flag of poetry
is returning
to port.
The poet
who reaches where no sun can reach
laughs, the blighter,
and says the fun was worth it.
Stillwater, 1974.
© Translation: 1992, Naushil Mehta and Ranjit Hoskote
TREASURE HUNT
© 1994, Prabodh Parikh
From: Kaunsman
Publisher: R R Seth, Mumbai
From: Kaunsman
Publisher: R R Seth, Mumbai
Poems
Poems of Prabodh Parikh
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TREASURE HUNT
The captain of the game of dredging upcastaway words,
having weathered all the sea-storms,
having awoken,
having trawled among the blocks of printing presses,
and hauled back,
having found the golden pulse
of sunken galleons,
having waved the peace-flag of poetry
is returning
to port.
The poet
who reaches where no sun can reach
laughs, the blighter,
and says the fun was worth it.
Stillwater, 1974.
© 1992, Naushil Mehta and Ranjit Hoskote
From: Kaunsman
From: Kaunsman
TREASURE HUNT
The captain of the game of dredging upcastaway words,
having weathered all the sea-storms,
having awoken,
having trawled among the blocks of printing presses,
and hauled back,
having found the golden pulse
of sunken galleons,
having waved the peace-flag of poetry
is returning
to port.
The poet
who reaches where no sun can reach
laughs, the blighter,
and says the fun was worth it.
Stillwater, 1974.
© 1992, Naushil Mehta and Ranjit Hoskote
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