Vasika Udurawane
Wish blesséd nirvana upon me one day for my nine-month pains, for
Turning my blood to milk as the poets and scholars have often droned…
perhaps also wish enlightenment one day, my son!
I am after all, no real blessing to humanity…
Call me ‘Ammā; one day if you like, suckling calf,
Worship at my feet…
but you will still wish me to be a man,
to be a true credit to the human race and why shouldn’t you?
I’m an obstacle to the pursuit of bliss,
fucked into pregnancy at seventeen,
mere filth meant just for bleeding and birthing…
So do go on my son, save me from sämsara!
wish Buddhahood upon me,
Let your descendants pray
25 centuries hence, adorn my altars with jasmine and incense…
May they call me Lord of all Truth then!
But…
May I wish for fairer feminine pleasures upon you?
Come, walk one day in my footsteps my darling,
And with mine eyes see the world.
You will then be the stain that
I was born to be a polluter of humanity
lest you make another child,
another man one day destined for enlightenment
As I with your father made you, my lamb, just a month ago…
