Elegy Written On The Last Night Of August Poem by Seiji Lushai

august ends in a lugubrious lament,
pouring its infinite downpour. in between the sky
and the ocean, here is the land, whose name speaks of beauty,
peace, equality(?) and empathy (! !) . once
the land of savages, now civilized.

grandfather used to tell me
how this eternal land came to be
enlightened by the gospel. like a
caterpillar evolving into a butterfly,
our land has been transformed since then.
but he was dead a long time ago, at the time of august's monsoon, with
his saggy beard and spring-like knees.
only a whiff of memory remains,
and his fragrance that smells of
after-shave and bai -
his favorite dish.

now it's the last night of August,
but the myth and legend still remains,
the savage soul in me has stirred the
sleeping memories and folklore.
that I have heard sometimes, somewhere
in the stories and rendition of grandfather.
when in August (thi tin thla) , the dead starts to leave
and begin their journey to pialral
the paradise for the dead.

i hope that all the countless lost souls,
still longing for this mortal world, would have a safe journey,
to wherever their destination may be.
this last rain of august seems like a conflate of my grandfather's and others' tears,
that now, pour in a heavy cascade
of memory and nostalgia. I wish,
he'd be in pialral, not the heaven,
brought by the missionaries of the gospel.
because he wouldn't find anyone out there,
who would listen to his soul stirring stories and fascinating tales.