Colección de Poemas de Debasish Parashar (en español y en inglés)

This Evening Is Not For Love Poems

Esta noche no es para poemas de amor

This evening is not for love poems
We can just sit quiet and indifferent
You know what I mean?
You know I know
It is fine even if you don’t

I still remember that sweet December
You sitting by my side
Life was so beautiful
I still remember you holding a green umbrella against a sophist sky
grey with tales
And your eyes rainy with words
It did rain that evening
It really rained
This evening is not for love poems

This evening is not for love poems
This evening is political
This red river of blood that separates us

and unites You and Me is a political triumph
This indifference is strategic
A Panopticon of hope
Still imprisons me like the bronze statue from Harappa

buried for ages
Just to be alive

This evening
Let us rather dream
Like they do in love
Let us be rebels for a cause
Like they do in love
Let us doubt, disagree and deny
Like they do in love
Conflict is a hungry chameleon dancing wild in a puritan carnival
And a carnival is true
This evening is not for sweet love poems
This evening is too many and too much

Esta noche no es para poemas de amor
Podemos tan sólo sentarnos serenos e indiferentes
¿Sabes lo que quiero decir?
Sabes que yo se
Está bien incluso si no lo sabes.

Todavía recuerdo ese dulce diciembre
Tú sentada a mi lado
La vida era tan hermosa
Aún recuerdo que sostenías un paraguas verde contra un cielo sofista
Gris y plagado de cuentos
Y tus ojos llovían palabras
Llovió esa noche
Realmente llovió
Esta noche no es para poemas de amor

Esta noche no es para poemas de amor
Esta noche es política
Este río rojo de sangre que nos separa y nos une a ti y a mí es un triunfo político
Esta indiferencia es estratégica
Un panóptico de esperanza
Todavía me aprisiona como a la estatua de bronce de Harappa sepultada por los siglos
Sólo para estar vivo

Esta noche
Permítenos soñar
Como lo hacen en el amor
Permítenos ser rebeldes por una causa
Como lo hacen en el amor
Permítenos dudar, estar en desacuerdo y contradecir
Como lo hacen en el amor
El conflicto es un camaleón hambriento bailando salvaje en un carnaval puritano
Y un carnaval es verdadero
Esta noche no es para dulces poemas de amor
Esta noche es tanta noche, demasiada.

(Traducción: Mariela Cordero.)


To My Grandfather

Decades back
When I was not even born
My grandfather Hiranath died an unnatural death

It was an unusually bright summer day
Unlike on other days, he did not carry sweets for all 
His hands had long blue veins
He walked back home in quick steps 
with an old Mohendra Dutt black umbrella in his hand to the scorching heat

His body was found hanging against the sun
in the shades of an old banyan tree 
notorious for its robust growth, noisy ghosts, and impeccable memories


Choric voice: “It was a suicide”
Nobody blamed the ghosts
Choric voice: “Condemnable for a Brahmin
Nobody questioned the village
Choric voice: ” no funerals for unnatural deaths”
Nobody appeased the dead
Choric voice: ” Nobody pollutes by empathy”
Nobody challenged the body
Choric voice: “Leave them alone”
Nobody challenged the spectators with shared blood
Choric voice: “No last rites”
Nobody challenged Agni that burns

My grandfather’s daughter carried her father’s corpse on a wooden cart for miles

The dead man cried for company
on his last journey too
His weight could not purify the cart 

His body was thrown into the waters of Bhogdoi
His flesh twisted like tradition into a curve
A golden fish jumped through his eyes

For years
everyone talked about everything, just not about the dead man’s mind

What was left of his body was only
his black umbrella leaning against a Bokul tree 
opposite the village temple under leopard shades of the sun

On the day, my grandfather died, my father was not in town. His absence was long overdue.

A mi abuelo

Décadas atrás
Cuando yo incluso aún no nacía
Mi abuelo Hiranath murió de causas para nada naturales

Era una día de verano inusualmente brillante
A diferencia de otros días, esta vez no traía dulces para todos
Sus manos tenías azules venas largas
Caminó a casa de prisa
Con una vieja sombrilla negra de Mohendra Dutt en su mano al calor abrasador

Su cuerpo fue encontrado colgando contra el sol
En las sombras de una vieja higuera de Bengala
Notoria por su robustez, ruidosos fantasmas, memorias intactas

Voz de coro: “Fue un suicidio”
Nadie culpó a los fantasmas
Voz de coro: “Condenable para un brahmán”
Nadie cuestionó al pueblo
Voz de coro: “no hay funerales por muertes de causas no naturales”
Nadie apaciguó a los muertos
Voz de coro: “Nadie contamina con empatía”
Nadie desafió al cuerpo
Voz de coro: “Déjalos en paz”
Nadie desafió a los espectadores con sangre compartida
Voz de coro: “Sin últimos ritos”
Nadie desafió a Agni ardiendo

La hija de mi abuelo cargó el cadáver de su padre en un carro de madera por millas

El muerto pedía compañía a gritos
en su último viaje
Su peso no pudo purificar el carro

Su cuerpo fue arrojado a las aguas de Bhogdoi.
Su carne se retorció como la tradición en una curva
Un pez dorado saltó por sus ojos

Durante años
todos hablaban de todo, pero no de la mente del muerto

Lo que quedaba de su cuerpo era sólo
su paraguas negro apoyado contra un árbol Bokul
frente al templo del pueblo bajo las sombras de leopardo del sol

El día que murió mi abuelo, mi padre no estaba en la ciudad. Su ausencia era ruidosa.

( Traducción: Natalia Danielle Serrano (Literatelia)


A Country Without Ghosts

A country where people do not die
A country without citizens
People travel with ease
between the living and the dead
with a shovel in hand
and coffin soil stuck inside nails


A country where people do not die
an island
where faces are more human
than the dead
and smiles are more real
than cigarette smoke

Living is not a luxury anymore
especially when a dust is powerful than my throat
and my lung is more vulnerable than a boat

A country where people do not die
A country without ghosts

I wish to be more than a citizen
a forever migrant
across my seas, slums, and streets


Poetry liberates
from poets and their poetry
Songs liberate
from musicians and their music
What is more liberating than a migrant heart
that beats strong to waves of dust
and flowers rooted inside the crust?
Crust is where rocks dance with ancient fire
borders melt
and I become a poet without a country

Living with the dead is not strange. Not strange at all.


Un país sin fantasmas

Un país donde la gente no muere
Un país sin ciudadanos
La gente que se dirige tranquila
entre vivos y muertos
con pala en mano
y tierra de ataúd encarnada en las uñas

Un país donde la gente no muere
una isla
donde los rostros son más humanos
              que los muertos
de sonrisas más auténticas
        que el humo del cigarrillo

Vivir ya no es un lujo
especialmente con un polvo poderoso deslizándose por mi garganta
y mi pulmón más vulnerable que un bote al óxido

Un país donde la gente no muere
Un país sin fantasmas

Deseo ser más que un ciudadano
un migrante eterno
a través de mis mares, barrios bajos y calles

La poesía libera
    de los poetas y su poesía
Canciones liberan
    de los músicos y su música
¿Qué es más liberador que un corazón migrante?
que late fuerte a olas de polvo
y flores enraizadas dentro de la corteza?
La corteza es donde las rocas bailan con fuego antiguo
las fronteras se derriten
y me convierto en poeta sin patria

Vivir con los muertos no es extraño. No es extraño en absoluto.
(Traducción: Natalia Danielle Serrano (Literatelia)

To read Debasish Parashar interview with La Ninfa Eco, please click here







Debasish Parashar (India) is a Multilingual Poet, Creative Entrepreneur, Singer/Musician, Lyricist based in New Delhi, India. He is an Assistant Professor of English literature at the University of Delhi. Parashar is the Founder & Editor-in-Chief of Advaitam Speaks Literary journal and is associated with the World Poetry Movement. With his debut song ‘Pamaru Mana’ (2018), Debasish became one of the first Indian singer/composers who dared to experiment with the idea of fusing 500-years-old Borgeets of Assam with Western Orchestral feel, challenging the religious and ritualistic conventions of the Satras. His debut Music Video ‘Shillong’ from his debut EP ‘Project Advaitam’ released in the month of September 2018. He has sung for Raag, In Search of God, MUSOC XXV and elsewhere.
His literary works have appeared in Kweli (New York), Sentinel Literary Quarterly (London), Atelier (Italy), Vallejo & Co., Santa Rabia, Revista Innombrable, La Raiz Invertida, Voices de la Luna (USA), Ginyu, Red Door, Contemporary Literary Review India, Enclave/Entropy (USA), La Experiencia De La Libertad (Mexico/Spanish), Expound (Africa), Asian Signature, Kitob Dunyosi (Uzbek), SETU, Five2One (USA), Moonchild (USA) and elsewhere. Debasish’s works are featured in international anthologies such as World Poetry Almanac 2017-18, Epiphanies and Late Realizations of Love (USA), ‘Where Are You From?’ (New York), ‘Apple Fruits of An Old Oak’ (U.S.A),‘22 Wagons’ (Serbian) andmultiple anthologies from Demer Press(the Netherlands) among others.

Debasish has read or received invitations to read in various national and international literary events/festivals including the 30th Medellin International Poetry Festival (the youngest Indian poet till date and the first from Northeast India)4th Indija Pro Poet 2020 (Serbia), Dylan Day Project 2020 by London Welsh Centre, Gronthee, WPD-2020 Reading of Festival Internazionale di Poesia Civile e Contemporanea del Mediterraneo (Italy), 3rd Patras World Poetry Festival (Greece), International Poetry Festival of Mexico, International Poetry Festival Amada Libertad, 9th World Haiku Seminar by World Haiku Association (Japan), Project ‘Building Smiles’ by Fisdace Foundation & CACB (Equador), 12 th International Writers Meeting organized by UNESCO affiliated Writers and Artists Union of Tarija (Bolivia), and 12 International Writers’ Festival-India by India Inter-Continental Cultural Association (India) among others.
His write-up on Majuli has been listed amongst top 100 online #worldheritagesites stories globally in May 2016 by Agilience Authority Index.

Debasish Parashar was honored with the ‘Festival Charter for Interpretation’ award at the Indija Pro Poet-2020 International Literary Festival. He has received an Honourary Diploma (Diploma de Honor) signed by the Consul of Isla Negra, Chile by Movimiento Poetas Del Mundo (Movement of Poets of the World).  Red Door Café and Art Gallery, Denmark, has permanently curated his poem ‘Fundamental Right to Dream’ in his own voice as part of ‘Poetic Phonotheque’, a classic collection of contemporary world poetry. The Poetic Media Lab, Stanford University has curated the cinematic video of his poem ‘Fundamental Right to Dream’, a few other poems and a letter for the ‘Life in Quarantine’ project.

The Indonesian translations of some of his poems were included in the English Poetry Appreciation syllabus of Makassar Islamic University, Indonesia for the year 2017-18. Parashar has been/is getting translated into more than 30 world languages including Italian, Russian, Dutch, Spanish, Czech, French, Romanian, Serbian, Albanian, Bulgarian, Persian, Afrikaans, Indonesian and Arabic. His poetry has been featured in more than 15 different books/anthologies from renowned publishing houses in India, the USA, Latin America, Russia, the Netherlands, Serbia and Mongolia. Overall, his poetry has appeared in more than 30 countries of the world.