भूपि शेरचन

          
This is the country of hoaxes.  – Bhupi Sherchan

Translation- Himal khadka

Where the deaf that should put on earphones
are the judges of the music competition
and those who have a heart of stone
are the critics of the verses

Translation- Himal khadka

Where the wooden feet
are the winners of the race
and where the bayonets of security
are handed to the plastered hands

Where on the roads and at the doorsteps of  the imposing buildings;
basket over baskets,
yoke over yokes,
truckload over truckloads,
souls are on sale.

those who buy and sell the souls like
the shares of the stock exchange,
are the leaders.

and where the ones with the forehead wrinkled like corrugated iron sheets are
the pioneers of the youth…

where the wash and wear crease of the prestige of a how so ever adulterer
never fades…

where the polyester skin of
an out-and-out sinful whore
never wrinkles…

where in the agricultural exhibitions the hybrid seeds are exhibited
and where the News is full of updates of drought and famine…

where instead of Bagmati1 and Bishnumati2 now flow beer and whisky
and where nowadays the temples of Pashupatinath3 and Swayambhunath4
are being used less to have their Prasad5
and more to eat the forbidden fruit, at the forest rear…

where the sugar factory only produces
the spirit and
the independent mothers give birth to the  Gurkhas6 only

where the great poet has to
die untimely to pay the debts

where the poet maddened
by being too much worried for the nation
has to surrender to the hospital abroad

and where the only begotten daughter of Saraswati7 in lack of treatment,
has to live her whole youth paralyzed
where the guide reminds the tourist,
Nepal’s contribution  to the world
and at the farewell  asks for the camera as a contribution

where, the youth now; parade,
singing the song of Nalapani8 and the castle of Kangada9
clipping the khukuri badge on the collar of the coat and tie…

I’m compelled to say to this nation, splitting
my own heart; that

O’ my countrymen!
O’ my national poets!
O’ my nation’s honourable leaders!

call me a slanderer of the homeland or
a scornful misanthrope if you want
but this is as my country as is it yours…
if allocated then there would be my hut too
on one of the billions of pieces of the country
and on one of its numerous beaches
there would be my funeral pier

and this is the very emotion
that I’m obliged to say this
and dare to tell this that
this is the country of hoaxes,
if dug and looked at the foundation;
hoaxes will be found, aggregated…
that’s why this is the country of hoaxes …

this is the country
that is standing on the hoaxes

this is the country that has risen on the hoaxes
this is the country of hoaxes.