My Shadow

by Salam Tomba, Toubul

I know
My true friend
Is my shadow.
Just it
That leaves me not when in misery,
It sits when I sit
Rises when I rise
And when I go to bed
It would walk just before me.

I act in secrecy
He writes quietly
Writes poetry about me.

So I scolded him once,
‘You are not my friend
You are my enemy,
You are killing me.’

He got angry, or was ashamed?
Don’t know, I don’t. But
He disappeared at night.

Yet, it was a surprise
When the sun was risen
He leapt out from behind
And said:
‘Gentleman,
I write all your goodness
I am because you are.’
Then he continues
‘Your bad smell, do not mind
They will float in the wind
One day when you are dead.’

‘You will turn to dust
I will merge with darkness,
How long have you come,
You don’t know, neither do I;
We were trusted with something,
Told us something
That’s forgotten, you and me.’

‘So, you and I
Have to depart with that forgotten.’

‘We may meet again
Or may not
While together for a while, you and me
Each other let’s believe.
Whine not like a flower in hair!’

I remember
I kissed it dearly
We cried the night together.

© Chumthang April 2011

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