Daily Poem: The House-Builders ~ Kamala Das
The House-Builders
~ Kamala Das
The cicadas in brambled foliage
Naturally concave. So also these
Men who crawl up the cogged scaffoldings
Building houses for the alien rich.
On some days the hot sky flings us scraps
Of Telugu songs and we intently
Listen, but we wait in vain for the harsh
Message of the lowly. In merry tunes
Their voices break, but just a little, as
Though the hero’s happiness is too big
A burden on their breath, too big a lie
For their throats to swallow, but past sunset
Their jest sounds ribald, their lust seems robust.
Puny. these toy-men of dust, fathers of light
Dust-children, but their hands like the withered boughs
Of some mythic hoodoo tree cast only
Cool shadows and with native grace bestow
Even on unbelievers vast shelters . . . .
