Disclamer and Copy Rights:
These translations are done with at most care but still need corrections. The translator tried to get very closer with the translations to the originals and is still trying. Suggestions and corrections are welcome.
About copy Right: These translations and other works/writings in this blogspot is copy righted and prior permission is needed to publish it elsewhere.
25th April 2010
I woke up thinking I have escaped
I saw all around. Up there
Sky: all the four sides’ flowery dark
None of the roof, walls.
Paths appeared all the sides.
Thinking this the open space itself, not a room
For some moments my mind surged.
I walked west dashed a wall
I walked south dashed a wall
I walked north dashed a wall
I walked east dashed a wall
I jumped up dashed the roof.
The cloud that the little bird brings
When the cloud
That the little bird brings
Fills me coolly
Will cease to be.
You can take my shirt.
You take my slippers.
When the cloud fills
My lung spheres
Limits will cease to be.
If you want to know
That little bird and
There is no death for me
This I came to know
After I went into the earth.
After going into the earth some distance
The sound of the chisel was heard
My grandpa appeared
An idol he was sculpting was
At the finishing stage.
It was my idol. He had not noticed me.
Further down chisel sound was heard. I went down.
There my great grandpa
Has had completed half of my idol.
Neither had he noticed me.
Still further down hearing the chisel sound, I went down.
My grandpa’s grandpa was choosing the stone
He too had not noticed me at all
Further I went down.
There I was sculpting an idol
It was not known whose idol was that.
After coming out of the earth it was clearly understood
What I was sculpting was my son's idol.
At where you were
As you were.
I will come
After all of the water
That goes caressing your legs
When is here
Me: Have had roamed all over the jungle
This map is of no use
No way is it known
At what place
On which tree
That the flower would bloom.
Incorporeal voice: There
In that branch of the tree
That is going to sprout from the seed of the fruit
That hangs in the branch of
That tree that is seen over there
That the flower would blossom.
Hold your hands together in this stream
Scoop up and drink a mouthful of water
In the charred realm where
The nonexistence line goes burning
Those were the days
Gods rejoiced speaking with men
Grandma would say.
The fire would pass over me
And then along with the chars
I too would become god.
The first arrow
I am the first arrow.
On this mount summit
For many a eons
For the one who has
No enmity over anyone would come
And will shoot me out with his bow.
Whether the wave
In the water or
In the wind or
In the mind.
It will be known
If it reach the shore
If it reach the shore
The wave would disappear.
This is today’s scenery of the warfare that is always there.
In today’s warfare there are no two divisions as their party, and opponent party
Since all of the warriors are wearing armories that cover the body, face, no one’s
Face was visible.
The eyes of the warriors inside the sheen metallic mask’s eyes that are always open remains shut.
Since the eyes are shut without demarcation of night and day the war always takes place.
Since everyone is nonviolent all of the warrior’s swords remain rusted inside the sheaths.
Everyone fights without taking out the swords with the shields itself.
As many a warriors die in the war, new warriors keep on joining the war.
Those warriors who have joined newly do not know the use of the sword that hangs at their hip.
It does pains even if you strike with shield.
But nobody would take out the sword and fight down.
Because this is the war of Dharma. Everyone is nonviolent.
Now and than
When my flowery eyes
Drop off on the earth
I could not see you.
To see you.
Huge and heavy
Stagnant remains the Sea
The great rivers
That moved weary and slow at last
Merged with it
With a deep sigh.
Everywhere in the earth where there are no trees
On the walls' men built
Having lost the glow
\the swarm of fireflies that dash
In the voice it has got in return
Not knowing the way.
In the world where all of the wind is gone
Near a great wall
Sitting on the man stretched out
The birds that have no way to fly
In vain flaps the wings.
The last breath
Of the earth that has darkened
Would exit as mans breathe
As a beginning hub of a new time
Would station in empty space.
Ocean in this table drawer
This table drawer.
Eagle of the sky
Under The cot.
The tiger roaming
In the bulb wire.
In the glass tumbler
Prison without walls
We come only
About the dangerous days you
Might have known without my telling.
Although why I am telling, is because
Only just to have a comparative look at.
When the monkeys change places
Have you ever noticed?
Would turn and look back once
Having the doubt that
Whether one of the dangerous days
Is stalking them.
In the branch of Mahua tree
The owl immersed in thought
Suddenly flied too
Also fearing the dangerous days only.
Dangerous days are colorless
Has none of heat, cold.
Those days do not have the reputation either.
Those days could occur in any of the month
Dangerous days knows
To declare themselves though.
When Vibishna left the royal court
Along With four of the demons
Ravana saw. The deceitful dim laughter of
Until the occurrence of the first day battle
Again and again appeared
The dull laughter of the dangerous days.
While lying down stretching the leg
Kannan of Dwaraka saw that
At the sole of his foot
Dangerous days have been drawing
The deer's eyes.
Are you asking why
I say days, days in honorific plural.
Could be respect enthusiasts.