Poetry&Stuffby
MARNE KILATES
MARNE
S
KRIPTS
from
Antinostalgia & the Tokhang
Rhapsodies
from
Antinostalgia & the Tokhang
Rhapsodies
From Mga Biyahe, Mga Estasyon
From Journeys, Junctions
(a collection of travel poems)
from
Antinostalgia & the Tokhang
Rhapsodies
Poems 2022
Poems 2022
Poems 2022
Poems 2022
From Mga Biyahe, Mga Estasyon
From Journeys, Junctions
(a collection of travel poems)
From Mga Biyahe, Mga Estasyon
From Journeys, Junctions
(a collection of travel poems)
From Mga Biyahe, Mga Estasyon
From Journeys, Junctions
(a collection of travel poems)
From Mga Biyahe, Mga Estasyon
From Journeys, Junctions
(a collection of travel poems)
From Mga Biyahe, Mga Estasyon
From Journeys, Junctions
(a collection of travel poems)
From Mga Biyahe, Mga Estasyon
From Journeys, Junctions
(a collection of travel poems)
From Mga Biyahe, Mga Estasyon
From Journeys, Junctions
(a collection of travel poems)
River Cruise
(Or: The Tiger I Never Saw)
The Sundarban*, Bangladesh
​
On a spit of sand
On what seemed the earth’s
End on a river coursing from Khulna
Into the far-off Bay of Bengal,
After sailing overnight between
Endless expanses of mangrove,
After being warned that only
The luckiest (and the quietest
And most behaved) of tourists
Were granted a rare glimpse
Of the elusive tiger of Bengal,
We found two pairs of spoors:
Feline and ungulate, paws with claws
And cloven hooves. The guide
Pointed them out to us.
​
We had no way of knowing,
Nor had need to know. Perhaps
They were out only to sun themselves,
Creatures of instinct. Unlike us,
Souls lost in the wilderness,
Feeling small between black sand
And roar of surf, between random
Debris of palm and driftwood
And the hazy horizon, as we cast
Our long shadows before retreating
To the shelter of our cruising barge
To sail back into the sunset, so we could
Wake before dawn in Khulna, and ride
Our comfy tourist bus back into
Dhaka’s dust-gray urban embrace.
Marne Kilates
26 January 2020
For my travel friends, Visit Bangladesh Programme, 2019
​
​
​
*The Sundarban is the largest mangrove forest in the world, while Bangladesh
itself is in the huge Ganges delta, which is formed by the confluence of the Ganges, Brahmaputra and Meghna rivers.
​
Were the paws
In pursuit? Or was each of them
Prowling the beach at different
Times, each perhaps a dream of its
Own existence, sniffing at the universe,
And each going back to graze or
Retire unseen in their nests
Among the thickets, under low
Branches, one stepping weightless
In undisturbed peace, the other
Biding his eternity for prey,
Tyger tyger burning bright
In the gnarled maze of the Sunderban
Twilight?