Those who make
horror films about mummies
hardly know our loneliness.
I am alone inside this huge pyramid.
No, I ’ m not yet deaf and blind:
just now a nightingale’s song is falling
on my ears , the visitors’ whispers,
and the rude sound car tyres make
as they rub agaist granite.
Children stare at me in terror ;
they don’t know I was not merely
a queen, but a mother too.
The day will pass like this,
with the sound of footsteps
and peels of laughter.
But nights leave me sleepless.
I don’t like men’s new ways a bit.
The whole night I am haunted
by the noises of motor cars
and mobile phones.
I want to sleep in comfort,
free from the armour and the crown,
being just a woman,
in B. C. E.
(Translated from the original Malayalam by