Poem - 4












Magic Vanish


DIPAK Kumar Chaube

Purulia, West Bengal

 


With my magic wand in hand 

and a big cap on my head,

A diamond necklace on my neck, 

gold embroidery on my sleeve.

Mouth chanting mantras, 

flowing in an endless stream,

The black curtain filled with 

thousands of stars gleam.

 

When I say "Gili Gili," 

the boy will become a goat,

With a touch of the magic stick, 

the madman will heal and float.

The wife of the priest, 

seeing such magic, runs,

Climbing onto the stage, 

she bows at the magician's feet 

in desperation.


With a black goat, she says, 

"This is my Horen,"

I would get my son back 

if you show some mercy again.

Falling into the trap, I sweat, 

fearing my life might slip away,

I've never been caught  

such a mess my life today.

 

Looking around, finally, 

I leave the stage and run,

Not looking back, I step into the water, 

my legs on the run.

From that day, the magic game began! 

I've listened to thousands of stories,

Leaving behind all the mantras, 

today I'll sell treasures instead of worries.

 

C o n t e n t s