Ishwar Chandra Gupta, Indian Bengali poet and writer, (March 6 1812 – January 23, 1859).
PINEAPPLE
Ishwar Chandra Gupta
Ishwar Chandra Gupta
Such is their greed that no part is thrown away.
Not crown, not base, not even the eyes
gouged out from the rind by the eye-eaters.
But why do I speak ill of them? I’m no better.
When I throw away the rind my eyes fill with tears.
I don’t want to be called Eye-eater by others.
Add a dash of salt, a squeeze of lime,
a spoon of sugar as divine as Chaitanya.
Eat it bit by bit, let the mouth fill with juice,
and watch the child Krishna dance and drool.
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TOPSHE FISH WITH EGGS
Ishwar Chandra Gupta
Though not a bird, you have attractive wings.
Your every limb is juicy, sweet.
Your flavour, once it fills the mouth,
makes other food taste like goo.
Cleaning you, scrubbing the scales, takes a while.
Can I have you raw? Right now, please?
To behold you is to forget even the son who’s died.
A whiff of you is a whole meal.
I buy you fresh, twenty at a time.
And eat you fast, deep fried in hot oil.