August and Nissim Ezekiel

Even now a host of miracles

hurries me a daily business,

minding the ways of the island

as a good native should,

taking calm and clamour in my stride.

(From Nissim Ezekiel’s “Island“.)

Here among the beggars,

Hawkers, pavement sleepers,

Hutment dwellers, slums,

Dead souls of men and gods,

Burnt-out mothers, frightened

Virgins, wasted child,

And tortured animal,

All in noisy silence

Suffering the place and time,

I ride my elephant of thought.

(From Nissim Ezekiel’s “In India”.)

I have become

part of the scene

which I can neither love nor hate.

(From Nissim Ezekiel’s “The Edinburgh Interlude”.)