Identity trees

(One)

For the Arab,


Olive is the identity tree,


The tree of Mahmud Dervish


Palestinians Queue before the Israeli barracks


In the epoch of identity cards;


Life is a mere return after the inspection of identity.




(two)



Paddy field was the old mark of identity,


Vast expanse of fields spread wide


With frequent strains of melancholy streams


Kingfisher meditating on the curly roots of riverside trees.


When gold is harvested in summer


A girl loiters lazily in the fields


With a book of poems unbound


And nearby a boy stands shy.





(Three)

In the Redland and the white sands


Coconut was the identity;


In the end the coconut flowers


Fruition to coconut bunches


Their buds chopped,


Toddy flows and sweet flakes invite;


On the floor polished in cow dung


Within a ring of coconut leaf


Hot sweet fluid is poured


And moulded to sweet cakes;


A number of reminiscences to chew,


Of struggles, of forbearances,


Of sorrows, Of sighs and smiles





(Four)

The identity of the graveyard is a sandal tree,


Long leaves flutter in wind


On the small trees


Souls rob the roots of every tree


Its fragrance spreads in the midnight breeze


(Five)

In the shade of the Memorial


Is a blood tree


Springing from the prison,


From the wounds the martyr incurred,


And then from his bleeding heart;


All village trees have the same face;


After crossing sun and lane,


Behold there,


Unknown people hide in shades.