Translation >Aleyamma Korah > poems >Bathsheba

Aleyamma K M > poems >Bathsheba

David,

Me , Bathsheba

The beloved wife of Uriah ,the Hithyan

The widow of the slain warrior

You were my fond memories from the childhood

Wasn’t I madly in love with you?

But today I wish not to see your face

The hands that were splattered with the blood of Uriah

Dream of my teens, love of  my tender age

Do you remember the day when you won over the philistine?

We made it big celebrating it with trumpets

Receiving you like an ancient warrior

I danced for you

Coloured in the brightness of the dusk

And enveloped in the soft odours

From the valley of the flowers

But you seem not to have noticed me…

You were forced into exile

You were driven out of the kingdoms

In the depths of the caves where you hid

You wished for soft touch and sweet food

The soft murmurs of all that you loved

The clasp and love of the land you adored.

Suddenly you returned to the land

An emperor in new clothing

A new Jerusalem

Seeking another era.

I have always opened the interiors of my doors

To hear you sing eternal psalms.

When you your lyre pour out

The unnatural softness of the music

When the lead of the choir made

Enchanting music out of you

Like a bird enamoured of the dreams

I stood there mad watching wishing for a glimpse of you

The day you found me

The innate softness of me

The radiance of a falling star

The sudden surge of all that lovingly

I have lost myself in the music of your lyre

The songs have me in a trance

Sudden praise for the deeds of Uriah in the warzone

But you played it hard and soft

In the sweet silent cold nights

We rode over hells of ecstasy and sadness

Forgetting the woman that I was

But suddenly all changed

How could you be so cruel

To one who was all to you

How could you let off the guard

Amd let him be kileed

The man who stood for you night and day

In love and despair?

I have lost my womanliness in the night of such cold betrayal

I have lost love and pleasure in the secret moorings

I have become a ghost bereft of emotions

My body has become a vassal of vice

David,

 I am carrying your child

Which is crying in the depth of the nigt

It may not be able to with stand the pain and the scorn

The fruit of the irreparable sin mocking us

David ,

I cannot even ask you

What am I before you?

But if you are left with a trace of fear or feel of guilt

Sing again

A song for uriah ,a psalm of sorrow

In pristine voice

Unaffected by the highdeciblel play of trumpets or lyre

Sing for uria a song of sadness

A song of deep sorrow

A psalm from the depth of the heart .