Poem: Delhi on Fire

A man is consoled by a relative before his father's burial at a graveyard in New Delhi
REUTERS/Danish Siddiqui

By Gabriel Rosenstock

Delhi, you are on fire!
Makeshift crematoria
everywhere you look
enough tears to put out all the fires
of the world

Mr. Modi
can you see the air through the smoke?
Oxygen can be created from air
through the use of an oxygen concentrator
Get your hands on one!
Get busy, now, shape up!
It’s not enough to grow a beard and look like a rishi
in an air-conditioned cave
Your people need oxygen
Lots of it!


Irish Version: Deilí Trí Thine

A Dheilí, trí thine ataoi!
Ainm’s créamatóiriamaí
gach áit
is dóthain deor a mhúchfadh tinte uile
na cruinne

A Uasail Modi
an léir duit an t-aer tríd an ngal?
Is féidir ocsaigin a chruthú as aer
le dlúthaitheoir ocsaigine
Faigh ceann!
Cuir cruth ort féin!
Ní leor féasóg a ligean ort féin is cuma an tsaoi a bheith ort
i bpluais aeroiriúnaithe
Tá ocsaigin de dhíth ar an bpobal

Gabriel Rosenstock
is an Irish poet, haikuist and tankaist. His latest book is Secret of Secrets.


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Cafe Dissensus Everyday is the blog of Cafe Dissensus magazine, born in New York City and currently based in India. All materials on the site are protected under Creative Commons License.


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