From “Moonlight on Pine Trees”

In the mornings the heart

would still for a moment the second

one looked out the window.

I would leave the bed and rouse my sleeping

siblings with shivering hands.

Is this Shimla—our town—or are we

somewhere else by mistake?

We don’t know that last night

as we slept unaware

the snow kept falling

without a word.

Translated from the Hindi