BORDER
 

I’m going to move ahead.
Behind me my whole family is calling,
My child is pulling my sari-end,
My husband stands blocking the door,
    But I will go.
There’s nothing ahead but a river.
    I will cross.
I know how to swim,
    but they won’t let me swim, won’t let me cross.

There’s nothing on the other side of the river
       but a vast expanse of fields,
But I’ll touch this emptiness once
       and run against the wind, whose whooshing sound
       makes me want to dance.
I’ll dance someday
        and then return.

I’ve not played keep-away for years
        as I did in childhood.
I’ll raise a great commotion playing keep-away someday
        and then return.

For years I haven’t cried with my head   
         in the lap of solitude.
I’ll cry to my heart’s content someday
        and then return.

There’s nothing ahead but a river,
        and I know how to swim.
Why shouldn’t I go?

I’ll go.