Can’t
I find I simply can’t get out of bed.
I shiver and procrastinate and stare.
I’ll press the reset button in my head.
I hate my work but I am in the red.
I’d quit it all if I could live on air.
I find I simply can’t get out of bed.
My joints have rusted and my brain is lead.
I drank too much last night, but now I swear
I’ll press the reset button in my head.
My love has gone. What do I have instead? –
Hot-water bottle, God and teddy bear.
I find I simply can’t get out of bed.
The dreams I dreamt have filled my soul with dread.
The world is mad, there’s darkness everywhere.
I’ll press the reset button in my head.
Who’ll kiss my tears away or earn my bread?
Who’ll reach the clothes hung on that distant chair?
I must, I simply must get out of bed
And press that reset button in my head.
What’s in it?
I heard your name the other day
Mentioned by someone in a casual way.
She said she thought that you were looking great.
A waiter passed by with a plate.
She reached out for a sandwich, and your name
Went back from where it came.
But like a serious owlet I stood there,
Staring in mid-air.
I frowned, then followed her around
To hear, just once more, that sirenic sound –
Those consonants, those vowels – what a fool!
I show more circumspection as a rule.
I love you more than I can say.
Try as I do, it hasn’t gone away.
I hoped it would once, and I hope so still.
Someday, I’m sure, it will.
No glimpse, no news, no name will stir me then.
But when? But when?
Evening Scene from my Table
Evening is here, and I am here
At my baize table with a glass,
Now sipping my unfizzy beer,
Now looking out where on the grass
Two striped and crested hoopoes glean
Delicious insects one by one.
A barbet flies into the scene
Across the smoky city sun.
My friends have left, and I can see
No one, and no one will appear.
This must be happiness, to be
Sitting alone with birds and beer.
In a brief while the sun will go,
And grand unnerving bats will fly
Westward in clumped formations, slow
And dark across a darkened sky.
Excerpted with permission from Summer Requiem, Vikram Seth, Aleph Book Company.
We welcome your comments at
letters@scroll.in.
I find I simply can’t get out of bed.
I shiver and procrastinate and stare.
I’ll press the reset button in my head.
I hate my work but I am in the red.
I’d quit it all if I could live on air.
I find I simply can’t get out of bed.
My joints have rusted and my brain is lead.
I drank too much last night, but now I swear
I’ll press the reset button in my head.
My love has gone. What do I have instead? –
Hot-water bottle, God and teddy bear.
I find I simply can’t get out of bed.
The dreams I dreamt have filled my soul with dread.
The world is mad, there’s darkness everywhere.
I’ll press the reset button in my head.
Who’ll kiss my tears away or earn my bread?
Who’ll reach the clothes hung on that distant chair?
I must, I simply must get out of bed
And press that reset button in my head.
~~~
What’s in it?
I heard your name the other day
Mentioned by someone in a casual way.
She said she thought that you were looking great.
A waiter passed by with a plate.
She reached out for a sandwich, and your name
Went back from where it came.
But like a serious owlet I stood there,
Staring in mid-air.
I frowned, then followed her around
To hear, just once more, that sirenic sound –
Those consonants, those vowels – what a fool!
I show more circumspection as a rule.
I love you more than I can say.
Try as I do, it hasn’t gone away.
I hoped it would once, and I hope so still.
Someday, I’m sure, it will.
No glimpse, no news, no name will stir me then.
But when? But when?
~~~
Evening Scene from my Table
Evening is here, and I am here
At my baize table with a glass,
Now sipping my unfizzy beer,
Now looking out where on the grass
Two striped and crested hoopoes glean
Delicious insects one by one.
A barbet flies into the scene
Across the smoky city sun.
My friends have left, and I can see
No one, and no one will appear.
This must be happiness, to be
Sitting alone with birds and beer.
In a brief while the sun will go,
And grand unnerving bats will fly
Westward in clumped formations, slow
And dark across a darkened sky.
Excerpted with permission from Summer Requiem, Vikram Seth, Aleph Book Company.