I had been to that deadly city
In sunless December cold ---
Sleepy before sundown the deserted roads
Lined with ghostly trees and haunted steads
Not a single soul abroad ---
I felt myself desolate and completely out of place
Where the infantile regent holds his demented court
With his courtly cronies and jesting clowns
The freshly severed head of a fool
Fallen from grace in momentary whim
On public display
Reminding others not to grow too bold
To threaten the jealously guarded throne
And in the dark dungeon the regent’s next of kin
With eyes gouged out in agony groans
In the hushed harems the eunuchs and omraos –
Those adventuring birds of similar feathers –
Constantly conspire for a coup
To plunder more and for a bigger booty
In its midst, by that parlour of perversity,
Outwardly poor you modestly stand
Banga Bhawan, my home away from home,
Rich in love, compassion and care
To welcome me warmly in your motherly arms
In that outlandish macabre world.
