-Hansan
My heart is the store house of memories;
Memories of things dearest to me.
I kept them locked up in my heart;
Like a rich man keeps his precious possessionsIn a bank locker;
I placed the heart in a cage of bones in my chest;
Nothing would destroy my beloved memories;
Neither the vagaries of weather;
Nor the thieves could lay their hands on them.
I kept the dearest memories in my heart.
My mother always wore white clothes;
My breath still holds the scent of her;
The scent, a mixture of coconut oil,
Tulsi leaves and sandal wood paste.
I remember the woman in the neighborhood;
The woman who prayed at the St.Thomas Church;
She who fed me her milk when my mother fell ill;
Oh, mother, it was not few drops of white fluid
That you flowed into the tiny lips of an infant,
But a stream of humanity.
The red flag fluttered dancing to the tune of thewind;
My father was in the front, shouting slogans;
The stream marching behind, repeated the slogans;
Late in the evening, he brought us children;
Small paper flags of red colour;
We marched in a row holding the little red flags,
I still keep the flag, red in colour, waving in thewind.
I see a pair of dark wide eyes;
An oily face and thin lips;
The girl I danced with on the School Anniversary day;
I still feel the warmth of her palm;
How can I not remember the girl of my first love.
My heart is the store house of memories;
Memories of things dearest to me.
The river swells during high tides;
The moon paints the water gold;
The lonely boatman sings a folk tune,
Breaking the night’s silence
When the first rain embraces,
The palm trees dance in ecstasy
Like the peacock on a cloudy day.
The cool breeze in dawnSmells of sweet flowers.
The dew drops on the pasture,
Reflects the morning sun in thousands.
The Ocean wave adorn the feet of the shore
With its silky silvery foam.
I stored in my heart, the Mountains andThe green meadows.
The rocky hillock stands sentinel to the past.
The ancient rock cut temple,Reminds of a bygone era.
You enlivened me with the touch of your finger
The cool of sandal paste you put on my forehead,
And the glitter of the stars in your eyes
That you stole from the heaven.
I stored everything, everything
That is dear to me.
My heart is a storehouse of memories,
Memories of things dearest to me.
