The Shopkeeper's Song / The Porter's Song

The Shopkeeper's Song When no customers come here, These sacks of rice also refuse to speak to me: They sit there silently, All alone. I'm here in the shop. Sometimes the mind leaves, going With the groceries that are sold. I become mindless like these sacks, Like the rice in these sacks. Sacks don't speak, I don't speak with sacks. I don't speak, the sacks don't speak with me. Sometimes, once in a while, Have you looked at yourself As though you've become your own things? Have you watched and seen yourself as your belongings? If you haven't, look carefully. Look out when no one speaks but silence; Then you'll see yourself Sitting there, becoming your own belongings. When no customers come here, These sacks of rice also refuse to speak to me: 10:45 AM 10 March 2000 Putli Sadak Click here for Nepalese Language Version

The Porter's Song The weight I carry isn't as burdensome As my life is to me. Carrying the burden of life, Being oppressed by it day in, day out. Furrows have filled my whole forehead. This burden crushes the body of flesh and blood. My children played hide and seek Making pathways along these furrows! So they are unfilled, So my hair too has turned into a forest! Didn't I tell you: This uphill road here It doesn't feel so uphill As this life's journey -- it suffocates me. Look, keep looking my friend, If life grows heavier These eyes will fall out As tears fall from our eyes And I too will go down Like a felled tree, with a crash; And after my body has fallen The voice too will go slowly down. Such is the fate Of a porter. 7:01 AM 20 June 2000 Putli Sadak Click here for Nepalese Language Version