Monday, 16 September 2019

WAKING IN NEPAL a poem by Alun Buffry (1985)

Alun Buffry (1985)


Is a cloudy sky, bright sun between, a slight breeze,
The sound of one man chanting.

And all elsewhere a few notes on some type of magic flute -
A strange cacophony of bells and horns and clattering.
No two horns seem to sound the same.

A mother engine? sounds like a tractor - probably a bus!
Beep, beep, beep.

If I look out of the window I see tin rooftops,
Blimsen Tower, a glorious white standing before the blue;

And there - a temple, a pagoda, a woman sitting with washing lay out to dry,
Pigeons coo-ing, crows a-crowing, gardens growing,
Potted plants that people tend,

A bicycle rickshaw, a cow, a man with a bundle of wood on his head!
A cockerel crows as another motorbike passes 3 men trying to move a fridge,

Young girl, proud, staring into space,
Three boys rolling rubber wheels of glee amidst the rubble,
Whilst more look on admiringly.

Yet another dog - a tempo (three-wheeler) barking as two boys, hand-in-hand,
Laugh at a goat.

Cock crows, horns, far away mountainous silences
Surround the Monkey Temple,

Like a golden palace on the hill.
Behind - another hill.
Shame about the dusty haze.

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