My Intended Bride - Pablo Neruda

Song

My cousin Isabela…I don’t remember my cousin Isabela. Now, years later, I have walked through the garden patio, where I am told, we saw and loved one another in our childhood. It is a place of shadows: as in cemeteries, the trees are hardened and wintry. Yellow moss encircles the waists of the huge dark-clay flowerpots toppled in this patio of memories…This, then, is where I first saw my cousin Isabela.
I must have looked at her with a child’s eyes that expect something is going to happen, is happening, has happened…

Cousin Isabela, my intended bride, a channel flows steadily, eternally, between our solitudes. I, from my side, set out at a run toward valleys I cannot see; my cries, my movements, return to me, useless, forgotten echoes. You, from the other side…

But, Isabela, I have brushed past you many times. Because you might be anywhere! That reserved woman who, when I walk at dusk, counts, as I do, the first evening stars from her window.

Cousin Isabela, the first evening stars.

~Pablo Neruda
Translated by Margaret Sayers Peden
In Passions And Impressions, Farrar, Strauss, Giroux
New York, 1983

Bread

I like good looking bread. Bread that's willing. The kind of bread that's found in dreams of hunger. And so it was that I met such a bread. I had knocked on a door (I sometimes do that to keep my knuckles in shape), and a women of huge doughy proportions (she had that unbaked, unkneaded look) appeared holding a rather good-looking loaf of bread. I took a bite and the loaf began to cry . . .
~Russell Edson

Source:http://www.ryangvancleave.com/Clemson_Fall04/prose_poem_info

Distant Woman

This woman fits in my hands. She is fair and blond, and I would carry her in my hands like a basket of magnolias.
This woman fits in my eyes. My gaze enfolds her, my gaze that sees nothing as it enfolds her.
This woman fits in my desires. She is naked before the yearning flame of my life, and my desire burns her like a live coal.
But, distant woman, my hands, my eyes, and my desire save for your caresses, because only you, distant woman, only you fit in my desire.

~Pablo Neruda
Translated by Margaret Sayers Peden in Passions and Impressions. Farrar, Strauss and Giroux, Inc 1983.

Similar Cases

One would be tired, the other was also, but bodily. The
tired man was doing absolutely nothing. The other
seemed to act the same, though involved in various
tasks. The man who did nothing was married. The other
was also, with this slight difference, however, that he
remained strictly celibate. As a husband he lived
alone, in appropriate company. The other lived alone
too, but in a promiscuity of about three thousand make
believe people. They both belonged to the secret
society of similar cases.

~Paul Colinet (1898-1957), Belgian surrealist.
Translated by Rochelle Ratner.
Source:http://capa.conncoll.edu/colinet.htm#poppies

The Potter

Your body is like a glassful of wine. You are full of sweetness. You are my destiny.
When I raise my hands to touch you, I feel a dove in every place waiting for me. My love, you are made of clay for my hands of a potter.

When I make love to you, your knees, your waist and your breasts disappear in me, like in a hollow of the thirsting earth. We lose our forms and merge together to become a grain of sand or a flowing river.

~ Pablo Neruda

This is my translation of the original in Spanish.
Source: http://www.sulekha.com/groups/postdisplay.aspx?cid=1026&forumid=886130

I Loved You Once

I loved you once. I love you no more. Let it be your grief and also your blame. You are not now what used to be. For what reason should I remain the same? If he loves you while I have no desire for you, then he has more love than brains. God sends me love for my debts to pay while the fool waste their love away.
Nobody could have taken our love away if you had continued to be mine. Yes, if you had continued to be your own, I would probably still be yours. But you wanted your freedom to get thrills elsewhere. How can I not have disdain for you? Why should I remain a captive of the captive?

When new desires overcame you and you went for him, I couldn’t be firm, only lazy, in still loving you. It was a sin for you to go to prostitute yourself. Unlike other occasions, there are no prayers to say in this case.

Now you assume glory in your voice telling his good fortune to others. I will not grieve, nor rejoice to see what I lost, he gained. It will be the height of my disdain to laugh at him and to blush for you. To love you still? Get lost. I love you no more. It is like begging at a beggar’s door.


*****

Original

To an Inconstant One

I LOVED thee once; I'll love no more—
Thine be the grief as is the blame;
Thou art not what thou wast before,
What reason I should be the same?
He that can love unloved again,
Hath better store of love than brain:
God send me love my debts to pay,
While unthrifts fool their love away!

Nothing could have my love o'erthrown
If thou hadst still continued mine;
Yea, if thou hadst remain'd thy own,
I might perchance have yet been thine.
But thou thy freedom didst recall
That it thou might elsewhere enthral:
And then how could I but disdain
A captive's captive to remain?

When new desires had conquer'd thee
And changed the object of thy will,
It had been lethargy in me,
Not constancy, to love thee still.
Yea, it had been a sin to go
And prostitute affection so:
Since we are taught no prayers to say
To such as must to others pray.

Yet do thou glory in thy choice—
Thy choice of his good fortune boast;
I'll neither grieve nor yet rejoice
To see him gain what I have lost:
The height of my disdain shall be
To laugh at him, to blush for thee;
To love thee still, but go no more
A-begging at a beggar's door.

~Sir Robert Ayton ( 1570–1638)
Source: http://www.bartleby.com/101/183.html

Days

Some days my thoughts are just cocoons -- all cold, and dull, and blind,
They hang from dripping branches in the grey woods of my mind;
And other days they drift and shine -- such free and flying things!
I find the gold-dust in my hair, left by their brushing wings.

~ Karle Wilson Baker (1878-1960)
Source: http://www.daypoems.net/poems/1385.html

Come live with me and be my love

Come live with me and be my love. We will fulfill our pleasures in the valleys, the hills, the fields, the woods or on the steep mountain slopes.
We will sit on the rocks and see the shepherds when they feed their flocks. We will sit by the shallow rivers, where in their falls, the birds sing sweet melodies.

I will make for you a bed of roses with a thousand fragrant posies. I will make for you a cap of flowers and a tunic embroidered with myrtle leaves.

I will make for you a gown of the finest wool pulled from our pretty lambs. I will make for you fur-lined slippers with buckles of the purest gold to protect your feet from the cold.

Also a belt of straw and ivy-buds with coral clasps and yellow studs. If these pleasures move your heart, then come, live with me and be my love.

Each May morning, the shepherd boys shall dance and sing to your delight. If these delights move your mind, then live with me and be my love.


~Christopher Marlowe (1564–93)

Original poem 'The Passionate Shepherd to His Love'
at http://www.bartleby.com/101/121.html

She walks in beauty

She walks in beauty like a cloudless night glittering with stars in the skies. Her countenance, her eyes look best in this meeting of darkness with light. She is thus mellowed to this tender light that the heavens even deny to the happiest of days. A little more shade, a little less light would have half-impaired that nameless grace that gently waves through her black tresses or softly prevails over her face where sweet, serene thoughts are expressed. How pure, how dear this place is for her grace to dwell!

Over her soft, calm, eloquent cheeks and brows, she bears a winning smile and a shining glow. They tell of her days spent in goodness, and her peaceful mind and heart whose love is still innocent.



~Lord Byron (1788–1824)
Original poem at http://www.bartleby.com/101/600.html

Go And Get Married

To the Virgins, to make much of Time

Gather your rosebuds while you may, the time is flying fast. The flower that smiles today, tomorrow will be dying.

Sun, the glorious lamp of the heaven, the higher it gets, the sooner it will end its race, nearer to its setting.

The best years of your life are when you are young and your blood is hot. With time, the best years will become worse, then worst.

Do not be coy. Use your best time if you will. Go and get married. If you waste your prime , you’ll be messing around all your life and will be sorry.


~Robert Herrick (1591-1674)
Original poem at http://www.englishverse.com/poems/to_the_virgins_to_make_much_of_time

Press my heart to your heart once again

The Indian Serenade

I arise early from sweet sleep after dreaming of you all night. The winds are soft and the stars are still shining bright in the sky. I arise after dreaming of you with springs under my feet. O sweet darling! I do not know how, but I arrive below your bedroom window.

The wandering airs are slowing down. The stream is silent and the scent of pine trees is everywhere like thoughts in a dream. The nightingale has stopped complaining in her heart. O my beloved! Let my heart be upon yours for me to stop complaining.

O darling! Lift me up from the grass below your bedroom window. I am dying! I am fainting! I am failing! Let your kisses of love rain on my lips and on my pale eyelids. Alas! My cheeks are getting cold and white. My heart is beating loud and fast. O sweetheart! Press my heart to your heart once again. It will break there at last.


~Percy Bysshe Shelley (1792-1822)
Original poem at http://www.englishverse.com/poems/the_indian_serenade

My Night Is Restless

My night is restless. In my bedroom, I feel the chill of breeze coming from the bamboos . Moon-beams have filled every corner of my garden. Heavy beads of dew are trickling down. Stars are sparse, feeling lonely in the sky.
Fireflies are flashing in the dark, waking up the birds from their sleep. The birds start calling one another. Everything seems to be caught between the shield and the sword. I am restless, and the night, emptying its grief, is passing on.

from a rendering of the original poem by Tu Fu (712-770)
http://www.emule.com/poetry/?page=poem&poem=664

Little buds, open delicately and sparingly

I cannot tell you the sorrow of riverside blossoms. And there is nobody to complain to. I am going half-crazy. I look up for my southern neighbor. He is dead. He drank wine for ten years. His bed is now empty.
There is a full frenzy of blossoming flowers along the riverside. I stroll fearing that the spring is coming soon. I can endure poems and heavy drinking of wine. Death, for an old white haired man like me, I hope, can wait.

The river is flowing deep. The bamboo houses along the river look so beautiful among the glaring red and white blossoms. Among the vociferous glories of the spring, I too have my place: a glass of white wine, saying goodbye to the affairs of life.

East of the river, before Abbot Huang’s grave, the gentle spring breeze is blowing in frail splendor. In this crush of peach flowers falling everywhere, I do not know which ones I like the most, the light red or the dark ones.

At Madame Huang’s house, thousands, tens of thousands of flowers hanging from the tree branches, falling and filling the paths. The butterflies linger there playfully and the orioles dance and sing ceaselessly.

I love blossoms. I feel like dying seeing them disappearing impulsively of old age. They fall every where by the branchful. Little buds, let’s talk things over: open delicately and sparingly.


from a translation of the original poem by Tu Fu (712-770)
http://www.emule.com/poetry/?page=poem&poem=656

The Cry Of A Monkey - Li Po

I took a small path leading
up a hill valley, finding there
a temple, its gate covered
with moss, and in front of
the door but tracks of birds;
in the room of the old monk
no one was living, and I
staring through the window
saw but a hair duster hanging
on the wall, itself covered
with dust; emptily I sighed
thinking to go, but then
turning back several times,
seeing how the mist on
the hills was flying, and then
a light rain fell as if it
were flowers falling from
the sky, making a music of
its own; away in the distance
came the cry of a monkey, and
for me the cares of the world
slipped away, and I was filled
with the beauty around me.

~Li Po (701-762)
http://www.emule.com/poetry/?page=poem&poem=1400

When I want to make love to her

Amaryliss
I do not care for these ladies who must always be begged for love. I like my kind Amaryllis, the wanton country maid. Nature does not like artificial beauty. Her beauty is her own. When I court and kiss her, she cries and says: “Please let me go.” But when I want to make love to her, she never says, ‘no.’

When I love my Amaryllis, she gives me flowers and fruits. But to these ladies I have to give golden showers. They sell love for gold. I only want my nut-brown Amaryllis. When I court and kiss her, she cries and says: “Please let me go.” But when I want to make love to her, she never says, ‘no.’

These ladies might have pillows and beds, custom-made by the strangers. Give me a bower of willows, of moss, some fresh leaves, milk and honey for my sweet Amaryllis. When I court and kiss her, she cries and says: “Please let me go.” But when I want to make love to her, she never says, ‘no.’

(WW)

~Thomas Campion (1567-1620)
Original at http://oldpoetry.com/poetry/32257

Teasing in Love - Ravi Kopra

You will be wanting me
To shower me with kisses,
To show me your love.
But I’ll love

To tease you first.
I will sit in front of you
Slowly taking off my blouse,
Smacking my lips

Looking up and down at you.
You will see my soft
Low-cut satin bra
Laced with gold stars.

I’ll cup and caress my breasts,
And circle my fingers around them,
Pressing them gently
For smooth soft touch.

You’ll be dying to hold me,
But I’ll not let you,
Until you tell me first
How much you love me.

Grandma's Wedding Shoes - Ravi Kopra

I’m getting ready
For the garage sale tomorrow.
My grandma passed away
A few weeks ago.
She was a collector of things
You would never know.

I am thinking to sell.
Her pair of wedding shoes
She wore one morning
Sixty years ago
Walking slowly
In a long tailed wedding gown,
Holding a bouquet of flowers in her one hand
While her father held her other hand,
Soon to be given away to her beaux,
Walking beside her, proud, smiling,
In a wedding tuxedo.

Could she have wildly imagined then,
Thirty years later,
Her unwed daughter
Would give me up for adoption
Shortly after I was born?
My mom, a poor mother,
Could not face rasing me up.

I look at the pair of shoes,
They still look new to me.
She saved them as a treasure
In the original box, tucked
Under her wedding grown,
In her old leather suitcase
Made in some small,
Now a non-existent Texas’ town.

The shoes are high heeled,
Light brown, each with two leather straps
To go around ankles,
Some sort of a hybrid
Of dress shoes and sandals,
High fashion luxury of grandma’s days.

I look at them again
And I change my mind.
I will not sell them,
They are worth a fortune to me.

Sixty years ago,
After, “ I do, I do”,
The choir boy rang
the wedding bells
On top of the steeple.
That moment, my grandma
Was wearing these shoes.

A Husband to his Expecting Wife - Ravi Kopra

Those peaches
Under your sweater,
Are now grown
To melons.

What will
They be like,
When the baby
Is here?

If Jesus had not gone to Heaven - Ravi Kopra

Today

nine eleven,

you think

of those,

who

could have

lived,

if

he had

gone

to heaven.


He is

dead.

He is

not here.

Jesus

is not here.

Mandy visited me for quick work-up - Ravi Kopra

One evening ,
As we were dancing
On the country club dancing floor,
You whispered:
“Honey, you are the love of my life,
Everyday I love you more.”

And yet I knew,
The night before,
You were not late from work

And I didn’t have a minor wreck.
You were sleeping with Randy after work
And Mandy visited me for quick work-up.

I have loved you with indifference - Ravi Kopra

For a long time
You have been gone,
For a long time
I have loved you
With indifference,
Sometime secretly

No utterance.
Still I hated to lose you,
And you vacillated

Between me and your lover.
When the party is over, it is over,
Don’t look back, there’s no left-over.


**********
Inspired by the following French poem:

QUI QUOI

Il y a longtemps que tu n’existes pas
Visage quelquefois célèbre et suffisant
Comment je t’aime Je ne sais Depuis longtemps
Je t’aime avec indifférence Je t’aime à haine
Par omission par murmure par lâcheté
Avec obstination Contre toute vraisemblance
Je t’aime en te perdant pour perdre
Ce moi qui refuse d’être des nôtres entraîné
De poupe (ce balcon chantourné sur le sel)
Ex-qui de dos traîné entre deux eaux
Maintenant quoi
Bouche punie
Bouche punie cœur arpentant l’orbite
Une question à tout frayant en vain le tiers

~Michel Deguy

Messiahs

Man killing man--
Muslims killing Christians
Christians killing Muslims--
For vengeance, for power.
For Allah, not Jesus.
For Jesus, not Allah.

Men with money,
Men with guns,
Messiahs of right or wrong?

Again and again he kisses my mom

My father comes home after
Spending many months abroad.
I am four, his youngest son
And with my mom at home.
I see him holding her in arms
And kissing her again and again.
I do not like this. I do not like this.
He holds me up in his arms.

I resist. I push him.
He does not let me go.
He takes me to a sweet-shop
And buys me some candy.

I refuse to eat. I say, “No, No.”
Almost by force he tries
To put a piece into my mouth
And then tries to kiss my cheeks.

His bad breath makes me sick.
I feel like vomiting. I put
My head on his shoulder
And look the other way around.

He takes me home and complains
To my mom, “What have you done
To this little one? He loves me no more.”
Since that day, for years and years

I did not like my father.

I did not like my father

My father comes home after
Spending many months abroad.
I am four, his youngest son
And with my mom at home.
I see him holding her in arms
And kissing her again and again.
I do not like this. I do not like this.
He holds me up in his arms.
I push him. I resist.
He does not let me go.
He takes me to a candy store
And buys me some barfi.
I refuse to eat. I say, “No, No.”
Almost by force he tries
To put a piece into my mouth
And then tries to kiss my cheeks.
His bad breath makes me sick.
I feel like vomiting. I put
My head on his shoulder
And look the other way around.
He takes me home and complains
To my mom, “What have you done
To this little one?
He loves me no more.”
Since that day, for years to come
I did not like my father.

I want you - A Love Song

It has been days
Since I saw you
I’m missing you so much
I want you, I want you…
Sleepless I was last night
You were on my mind
I called you many times
You voice would have soothed my mind

I want you
I miss you
I want you…

Don’t break your promises this time
I will wait for you all my life
But if you break my heart, my love
My life will not be worthwhile

I want you
I miss you
I want you...

I think of days when you and I
Will be together forever
You will be mine
I will be yours forever

I want you
I miss you
I want you
I love you…

Desi (East Indian) Women - Ravi Kopra

Desi Women

Women, DH Lawrence once said
Do not want sex, they want men
They bargain sex for men
Desi women are no different
They want men for children
For diamonds and for gold

No wonder they go to Oak Street
Buying diamonds and gold
For them and for their children

As young as two days old.
Desi woman, your man is complaining
He has now seen women in the West

Give him sex sometimes
He always gives you
Children, diamonds and gold

*****
Inspired by a posting at
http://www.sulekha.com/groups/postdisplay.aspx?cid=637111&forumid=756919&ref=ghpbtm

Desi (East Indian) Men - Ravi Kopra

What’s wrong with Desi men?
They have kids, beautiful wives,
They work hard. They make money.

They love kids. Not their wives.
They drool over other women
In front of their wives.

How embarrassing, how humiliating
Seeing them openly flirting!
What’s wrong with Desi men?

Desi woman, do you like sex?
Or you want your man only
For children, diamonds and gold?

*****
Inspired by a posting at
http://www.sulekha.com/groups/postdisplay.aspx?cid=637122&forumid=756919&ref=ghpbtm

Her Bedroom I - Ravi Kopra

I enter her bedroom
The bed neatly made
A copy of Bhagawad Gita

On the table by bed side
On the walls, framed
Pictures of her parents

Marigold garlands around them
In a corner, a little shrine
A little statue of Durga, dressed

Beautified with a bindi on forehead
A smoldering stick smelling jasmine
At her feet with petals

Of red roses lying around
The dim room is quiet
With dead silence

Her Bedroom II - Ravi Kopra

I cannot imagine I am lying
In pajamas beside her in the bed
While she is still
Wrapped around in a six-yard-sari
Or in an evening gown still
With bras and panties underneath
The eyes of her parents
Peering at me through
Framed pictures hanging on the wall
And adorned with garlands of marigold
How dare do I touch her
Their daughter so innocent, so pure

And mother Kali
An avatar of mother Durga
Who listened to her prayers
Days and night for years
Might suddenly jump out
Of her statue of stone

Sitting on a blood thirsty
Roaring, black-streaked lion
Kali’s face darker than hell
Sclera brighter than mid-day sun
Stuck out pierced red tongue
With many silver spikes

Scantly dressed with many arms
Carrying the freshly cut-off
Head of some evil man still
Dripping red with blood
And in her other hands
A three-pronged Shiva’s spear

Some snakes and paraphernalia
Of cruel murderers and killers
Shouting out loud to me:
“Leave my sweet devotee alone
I will cut off your penis now
You will go to hell to rot.”

Her parents, her six yard sari,
Her kali mata, would scare me to death
And her ever smoldering sticks
Of incense of roses and jasmine
Still unable to hide the curry smell
Coming from her kitchen

Would make me crazy as hell
It is so nightmarish to me
I cannot think of myself
Holding her in my arms
Loving her there
Lying in her bed

Moments of pleasure in trivial things - Ravi Kopra

I have no use of sayings
Of Indian gurus from Tamilnadu,
Nor have I use of their
Followers’ words of wisdom.

If only you knew how poetry springs
With play of words in trivial things,
Like croaking of a cock in the morning,
Like shouting of a muezzin on a mosque-top

Like the dogs serenading hearing
The sounds of running train-cars,
Or the smell of jasmine in the evening,
Or the taste of raspberries in the spring

You would see beauty in everything.
No search for packets of ancient wisdom
To seal off your brains for nothing.
But moments of pleasure in trivial things.

*****
Inspired on reading a poem ‘I have no use for odic legions’ by Anna Akhmatova.

If You Love, Love Openly - A Zen Story in Verse

If You Love, Love Openly

Twenty monks and Eshun, the only nun,
Practiced meditation with a master of Zen.
She looked very pretty
Though her head was shaved

And her dress very plain.
Many monks loved her secretly,
Everyone’s heart was slain.
A certain monk could resist no more

A love letter to her he wrote
For a rendezvous very remote.
He got no reply and wondered why.
Next day after the master’s sermon

Eshun stood up and said to him:
“If you love me
As much as you tell me,
I’ll see you in a place remote,
But first, come and embrace me now.”


**********

Rendered from the following Zen story:

If You Love, Love Openly

Twenty monks and one nun, who was named Eshun, were practicing meditation with a certain Zen master.

Eshun was very pretty even though her haid was shaved and her dress plain. Several monks secretly fell in love with her. One of them wrote her a love letter, insisting upon a private meeting.

Eshun did not reply. The following day the master gave a lecture to the group, and when it was over, Eshun arose. Addressing the one who had written to her, she said: "If you really love me so much, come and embrace me now."

http://www.maths.utas.edu.au/People/Allison/zen/zen005.html

You are beautiful, my beloved, you are beautiful - Bible

Ah! You are beautiful,
My beloved, you are beautiful.
You eyes behind your veil
Are like the doe's eyes.
And your hair is like
The fleece of sheep racing
Down Mt. Gilead's slopes.
Your teeth look like

The flocks of ewes that
Have come after the washings.
Your lips are like two scarlets
And your mouth, so lovely.

Your cheeks are half pomegranates,
And you neck, the tower of David
Where hang a thousand bucklers
As shields of valiant men.

Your breasts are like two fawns,
The youngs of a gazelle browsing
Among lilies. You are beautiful,
My beloved, you are beautiful.

You are beautiful without blemishes.
I'll climb up the mountain of myrrh,
All day until the eveinig,
And bring the incense for you.

*******
The Charms of a Beloved. From the Song of Songs,
Chapter 4 in the Bible. This is my rendering.

Passionately - ravi kopra

Passionately

I just got the love note you sent
at five in the morning to me.
Were you sleepless all night
thinking of me? Were you
dreaming all night
making love to me?
Softly, gently
passionately
secretly.

I have been missing you lately
wondering how would it be
when I'd be holding you
in my arms, kissing you
whispering my love
to you, softly
passionately
secretly.

Like Sunday Kind Of Love - Ravi kopra

I woke up early in the morning
And slipped my hand under her nightie,
Caressing her softly, gently.
She woke up feeling my touch
And glided her hand down by belly,
Finding me all aroused, she pressed

Her legs against my legs
And went on saying mumblingly:
"Good morning, love

I don’t want to get out of bed,
It is Sunday today.
Let’s make love

Like Sunday kind of love."

Burning in Longings - Ravi Kopra

She has his photo by her bedside,
She looks at it and gets aroused.
She starts to play with herself,
In lustful pleasures she’s doused.

To showers she goes from her bed,
They don’t cool her desires down.
She goes crazy thinking of him,
And gets lost in her heart and head.

She wants to hold him to her breasts,
He is her lover, her dearest.
She wants him now, she cannot wait,
Burning in longings she cannot rest.

Jesus says to twelve disciples - Bible

Jesus says to twelve disciples:
Do not be mistaken,
I have not come
To bring peace on earth

But to bring the sword,
To set a man against his father,
To set a daughter against her mother,

To set a daughter-in-law
Against her mother-in -law.
And one’s enemies will be

From one’s own household.
Do not love your father or mother
More than you love me

Do not love your son or daughter
More than you love me.
Follow me

Die for me me,
Or you will not be
Worthy of me.

Lord Jesus of the Christians
Mathews 10: 34-39, Bible.


Rendering Biblical prose into free verse.

Here - Gagan Gill

Here

Here she will hide in her skeleton
Escaping the assaults
On her youthful beauty.

Here she will bury herself
Under her grief,
Hiding from her soul.

Here she will go through
The ordeals of her body and dreams.

She will look for a corner
In the poetry of others.

This is the stone
That she will lick.

The one that is a fish
And the other, a fish without fins,
Both will drown here.
Right here.

*****
Original in Hindi

Yahan

Chepegi weh
Kankal main apne
Yuva chawi se baachkar

Yahan dhansegi weh
Santap main apney
Atma se chip kar

Noch dalegi
Yahan vipikhsta
Deh aur swapan

Dundeghi weh
Tinka bhar jagah
Dusron ki kavita main

Yahi weh pathar hai
Jisey chantegi weh

Ek jo machli hai
Ek jo a-machli hai

Dunbegi
Dono hi

Yahan
Yahin par

When will you come to me? - Mirabai

When will you come to me?

I send him letters,
But my dear Krishna
Sends no response to me,
He keeps his silence purposefully.
I sweep the path,
I keep it ready
For him to come to me.
I wait and gaze
Till my eyes turn blood-shot,
But he does not come to me.
Every passing day and night,
I’m now getting restless.
My heart, it seems,
Is going to break.
O my Dark One, you were with me
In all my former lives.
When will you come to me?

*****
This is my rendering. Original poem is in Hindi.

While Vacating the Old Home - Balmukund Dave

While Vacating the Old Home

Several times I looked and found many things:
An old broom, a toothbrush, a piece of unused soap,
A cap-less bottle, an old tin waste-bin, a leaking-bucket,
A pair of broken glasses, clips, buttons, pins, a needle and thread.
I took the name-plate off my door and put it in the waiting truck.

I stood there to see fully the grounds
Where we spent the first ten years of happily married life.
My son, now like a king of gods, came here to our life.
Here too we sadly gave to the holy fires our other son.
He is calling now from a corner and saying:
“ Mommy, daddy, you forgot nothing to take with you,
Have you forgotten me?”
While taking my final steps, a sharp piece of broken glass
Pierces my bare foot and I see pearls
Of blood on the footprints l leave behind.

*****
The original is in Gujrati. The following literal version was kindly sent to me by Maansi Mehta.

Junu Ghar Khali Karta

While Emptying the Old House

Check everything again and again, and found many things : Old broom, toothbrush and small piece of used soap, A bottle without cover, and old tin container, and bucket with hole in her womb, Broken glasses, clip, button and pin..needle and thread, Took off the name board from the door of my name. Which I placed reverse in the truck and sent off. Stood there to get the eyeful of that earth, On which we spent the first decade of our loving marriage. Where our son, who is like king of Gods entered our life. And where, we gave away other to pious fire with heavy heart. He still calls from the corner, and says, "Mother Father, you dint forget anything else, but have you forgotten me?" A sharp small piece of glass, got into the barefoot. While taking out the steps, there are pearls of blood on them.

I sing for him joyfully--Mirabai

Rain drops are falling from clouds
In the month of monsoon,
How pleasant to the heart!
But in the month of monsoon,
My heart begins longing for him.
I hear the sounds of his coming,
The clouds go on gathering
In every direction I see,
The lightening strikes the skies,
The rain falls in small drops
And a cool breeze begins flowing.
How pleasant to the heart!
My Lord is the Dark One,
I sing for him joyfully.


*****
Original in Hindi

Lustful Women of Winter--Kalidasa

The women love chewing beetle-nuts.
Around their necks,
They wear garlands of flowers.
Their lotus-faces freshly creamed,
They enter bedrooms after
Enjoying their liquor drinks.
The fragrance of aloe-vera,
All around them.
In the bedrooms they find
Their scolding husbands
Daunted earlier by rude remarks.
But the husbands compromise
Seeing their lustful wives
And get impatient for love-making.

Wives too overlook their grouching,
And hurry to beds even when quarreling.
They would too not miss love-making.
The winter fuses them in joys of love.


*****
Original in Sanskrit taken from the Ritusamahara of Kalidasa. Rendered into free verse from a literal English translation

Opening Verses of Gita Govinda--Jayadeva

I
“Hey Radha!
Thick clouds are gathering in the sky
Over the woodlands of tamaala-trees,
It is getting dark fast
And he is feeling fearful.
Please take him home.”
Nanada thus asked Radha.

She leads Mahdva home.
But soon begins her passion-plays
On the way back home,
Under each tree,
In the groves on the banks
Where Yamuna river flows.
They are going to be amorous
In their passion-plays.

***

II

I, the kingly poet Jayadeva,
Am going to scribe Gita Govinda,
The love story of passions played
By Radha and Krishna in the following way.
Saraswati, the deity of speech,
Is now coloring my soul with stories,
Like the murals on house-walls.
I’ve become the king of poets
Worshipping at goddess-Lakshmi’s feet
And loving my wife, Padamavati,
Who put my lyrics to rhythms
By dancing on her feet.

O people of grace!
If you hearts are
Seeking Krishna’s love
And if you desire to know
How women flirt with men,
Then listen to Jayadeva’s song,
Singing praises of Krishna
In pleasing words.


******
The original is in Sanskrit. Rendering from a literal English translation.

Coupletes of Kabir and Surdas

"Jaise til mein tael hai, Jyon chakmak mein aag
Tera saayee tujh mein hai, Tu jaag sakey to jaag".

~Kabir

Like the oil in the sesame seed,
Like the fire in flames,
Your Lord is within you.
Find him if you can.

*****

“Maati kahe kumhaar se, tu kyon rondhe mohey.
Ek din aisa aayega, mein rondhoongi tohey.”

~Surdas.

The clay says to the potter:
“Why are you molding me?
A day will come,
When I’ll be molding you.”

*****

"Dheere dheere rey manah, dheere sub kuch hoye
Maali seenche sau ghara, ritu aaye phal hoye "

~Kabir

Be patience, O my mind!
With patience you get everything.
A gardener may use
A hundred vessels of water,
The plants will bear fruits,
Only when the season comes.

*****
Maya mari na man mara, mar mar gaye sareer
Asha trishna na mari, keh gaye das Kabir

~Kabir

bodies of many
came to end.
but their bondage,
their desires
saw no end

their hopes,
their longings
had no end.
Saint Kabir
said this
in passing.

Excerpts from Bhagawad Gita - Chapter I

Chapter 1
Sorrow of Arjuna
Dhritarashtra:
O Sanjay, please tell me what
my people and Pandu’s sons are doing
gathered in Kurukshetra’s holy-plains?


Sanjaya:
King Duryodhana saw Pandvas’ army
in the battle-field and spoke these words
to Drona, his teacher:
“Behold, O Teacher!
This mighty army of Pandu’s sons
arrayed by Drupada-the wise disciple.

There are heroes and great bowmen
like Bhima and Arjuna
Yuyudhana, Virata and Drupada
all in their chariots to fight.

*****

Our army led by Bhisma is great
their army led by Bhima is small.
All of them at their assigned-posts
are guarding Bhisma, yes Bhisma alone.


Bhisma, your glorious grandsire,
the oldest of Kauravas,
got up to cheer Duryodhana,
and blew his conch like a roaring-lion.

Following him on our side
were then heard sudden sounds
of tabors and kettledrums
cow-horns and drums,
all blaring forth tremendously.

Then Madhava, Krishna
and son of Pandu, Arjuna
seated in their great chariot,
yoked with white steeds,
blew their conches divine.

*****

The uproar was so huge, the sounds
resounded in the heavens and earth,
tearing apart Dhrtarastra’s sons’ hearts.

Seeing Dhrtarastra’s party all arrayed,
ready to discharge their weapons,
Arjuna, the son of Pandu
bearing an ensign of monkey-design
took up his bow and asked Krishna,
"O Lord of this world!
What’s going to follow now?"

Arjuna:
O Krishna, in my chariot I come
in the middle of two armies to see
who stands here desirous to fight
and with whom I must fight,
just before the war starts.
For I desire to see the fighters,
especially the evil, Duryodhana
whom I’d love to please.

Sanjaya:
O Dhrtarastra, hearing this from Arjuna
Krishna brought the best of his chariots
in the middle of two armies,
in front of Bhisma and Drona
and other rules of the earth
and said to Arjuna: “O Arjuna,
behold these Kurus gathered together.”

*****

O Krishna!
Seeing my kinsmen arrayed eager to fight,
I feel my limbs failing, my mouth parching
my body quivering, and my hair standing on ends.

Gandiva, My bow is slipping in my hands,
my skin feels hot, and my head is reeling,
I feel I am falling on my knees.
And I see the adverse omens
I see no good in killing kinsmen in battle.

I desire no victory, O Krishna!
nor do I desire kingdom or pleasures.
Of what good is the victory to me,
Or pleasures of life or even life to me?

Those for whom we want the Kingdom,
enjoyments or other pleasures,
stand here in the battle
giving up their wealth and lives.

*****

O Krishna. I wish not to kill them
even though they kill me
I care not for three-worlds
for killing them in this world.

By killing sons of Dhrtarastra
what pleasure will be ours, O Krishna?
Only sin will befall killing these felons.

*****

For killing a family destroys
its eternal religious rites, and
by killing spirituality, the family
is overcome by impiety.

When impiety prevails, O Krishna
the women of the family are defiled
and thus, O Krishna
arises the intermingling of castes.

Confusion of the castes
sends the family-slayer to hell,
for their forefathers fall deprived
of the offerings of water and rice-balls.

Thus the evil deeds of family killers
cause confusion of the castes,
and destroy family’s eternal religious rites.
Alas! Just for the pleasures of a kingdom
we are going to kill our kinsmen.

*****

Sanjaya:
Arjuna, speaking thus in the battlefield
sitting on the seat of his chariot
got overwhelmed with sorrow
and threw away his bow and arrow.

******
0riginal in Sanskrit. Rendering from a literal transation in English.

Those moments, those love chats--an Urdu movie song

Those moments, those love-chats,
No one can guess
what we did those nights.
The rains came and we made
Our sweet memories.
I didn’t know, you didn’t know,
Nor did anyone know
How the weather was going to be.
From wherever it came,
It brought with it
the gloom of sunshine.
We became restless in our longings
We parted and went our ways.

My love for you is deeper
Than the depths of oceans.
But how can the spring come
On the wings of dark winds?

From wherever the winds came,
They darkened the valleys.
We became restless in our longings,
We parted and went our ways.

Those moments, those love-chats,
No one can guess what we did those nights.
The rains came and we made
Our sweet memories.

*****
Original in Urdu

Woh Lamhe, woh baatein,
Koi na jaane,
Thi kaisi raatein,
Hooo, barsaatein,
Wo bheegi bheegi yaadein, Wo bheegi bheegi yaadein...

Na main jaanoun, Na tu jaane,
Kaisa hai ye mausam, Koi na jaane,
Kahin se hai fizaa aayi,
Ghamon ki dhoop sang laayi,
Khafaa hogaye hum, Judaa hogaye hum,
Woh lamhe,Woh baatein...
Saagar ki, Gehraayi se Gehra hai Apna pyaar,
Sehraoun ki, in hawaon me, Kaise aaye-gi bahaar,

Kahan se ye hawa aayi,
Ghataayen kaali kyoun chhaayi,
Khafaa hogaye hum, Judaa hogaye hum,
Woh Lamhe, woh baatein,
Koi na jaane, Thi kaisi raatein,
Hooo, barsaatein,
Wo bheegi bheegi yaadein, Wo bheegi bheegi yaadein...

Bhagawad Gita, Chapter 7

Chapter 7
Philosophy of Wisdom and Realization

Lord Kirishna:
O Arjuna,
Hear this now from me:
when you meditate on me
how to take refuge in me,
you surely will come to know me.

I will fully tell you
this knowledge of realization.
If you get this. That’s all there is.
You need nothing more than this.

One man among thousands
per chance may strive for perfection
and one among these per chance
may come to know my essence.

My nature is eightfold:
Earth, ether, water, fire,
egoism, mind, intellect and air.

O Arjuna:
This is my base nature.
Know my sublime nature now:
the very essence of life
that upholds this world.

Know that these two
give birth to of all beings,
I am the one who creates
and dissolves the universe.

O Arjuna,
There is no one higher than me
the universe to me is like
gems in clusters on a string.

O Arjuna,
I am the life in water,
I am the light in the moon and the sun,
I am the word Om in Vedas,
I am the sound in ether,
I am the virility in men.

The sweet-fragrance of earth is me,
The brilliance in the fire is me,
I am the life in all beings,
I am the monk’s austerity.

Know O Arjuna,
I am the source of all beings,
I am the intelligence of the intelligent,
The beautiful splendor of things is me.

O Arjuna,
Of the strong, I am the strength
sans attachment and desire,
in all beings I am the desire
of dharma—the path to truth.

All beings and things,
pure, active and inert,
know they come from me.
They are in me
and yet I am not in them.

Deluded by three qualities of nature,
People do not know I’m changeless.
They tell themselves they’re like me.

It is really hard to see me
through this divine illusion of mine,
made by three qualities of nature.
Those who take refuge in me
through this illusion, they see me.

The deluded and the evil doers,
the lowest of all do not see me.
Their wisdom is veiled by illusion,
they go the way the demons go.

O Arjuna, O Prince of Bharatas,
Four kind of virtuous men worship me:
The distressed, the wise and those
who seek wisdom and wealth.

Of these, the steadfast and the wise
devoted to me are the best.
For I am dear to the wise
and the wise are the dearest to me.

Noble indeed are all these,
but the wise I consider as my very-self,
firm in their minds they focus on me
and me alone they make their goal.

Through many births the wise come to me,
realizing I am the innermost-self,
the greatest soul hard to find.

Those who lose their heads in various things,
they desire to go to their own gods,
following their chosen paths.

In whatever way
a devotee worships his faith,
I make his faith
firm and unflinching.

With his faith he worships
and gets his desires fulfilled.
But I ordain all this.

These men of lower intelligence
worship gods to get low rewards.
But my devotees come to me.

The foolish think I am like them,
but they do not know my higher nature.
I am changeless. I am God in person.

I do not appear to all
as I am veiled by worldly illusions.
The world is in delusion,
It does not know
that I am the unborn, the imperishable.

O Arjuna,
I know who lived in the past,
who is living in the present
and will live in the future.
But no one knows me.

O Arjuna, the Scorcher of the Foe,
All beings are deluded
by the opposing qualities of the nature.
They arise from desire and aversion
and get into delusion from birth.

But men of virtuous deeds,
putting an end to their sins,
freeing from opposing qualities of nature,
firmly in their resolve, worship me.

Those who strive for liberation
from old age and death,
they take refuge in me.
Knowing the wisdom of self and action,
they fully realize me.

Those who know me
How I act through elements,
the gods and sacrifice,
They know me
even after their death.

****
A rendering from English translation of Bhagvad Gita by Swami Siva Nanda. Published by Divine Life Society of South Africa, 1939.

Now I am burning in fires of love--Razia Sultan

Now I am burning in fires of love,
Oh yes, in fires of love.
I’ve been thirsting for love,
Oh yes, thirsting for love,
Since early evening today.
Tell the romance to bring
From somewhere the months of rains.
I am now burning in fires of love.
I don’t know when the night will end,
I’ll be burning till morning in fires love.
I’m now writhing in convulsions of love,
Please come and embrace me tight
Holding me against your chest,
Oh yes, holding me against your chest,
Easing the fires behind my breasts.

You’ll see me burning--
I swear it by my smile--
In your arms I’ll die burning.
Place you hand upon my heart
To pacify the pulsations of love.

I’ve been thirsting for love
Since early evening today.
My body is now burning
In fires of love,
Oh, yes in fires of love.
Tell the romance to bring
From somewhere the months of rains.
I am now burning in fires of love.

*****

A movie song. Original in Urdu.

jalataa hai badan
ho ... hAy! jalataa hai badan
pyaas bha.Dakii hai
pyaas bha.Dakii hai sare shaam se jalataa hai badan - 2
ishq se kah do ki le aae kahii.n se saavan
pyaas bha.Dakii hai sare shaam se jalataa hai badan
jalataa hai badan - 2

jaane kab raat Dhale, subah tak kaun jale
daur par daur chale, aao lag jaao gale
aao lag jaao gale kam ho siine kI jalan
pyaas bha.Dakii hai sare shaam se jalataa hai badan
jalataa hai badan - 3
o aah! jalataa hai badan

dekh jal jaae.nge ham, is tabassum kii kasam
ab nikal jaayegaa dam, tere baaho.n me.n sanam
dil pe rakh haath ki tham jaaye dil kI dha.Dakan
pyaas bha.Dakii hai sare shaam se jalataa hai badan
jalataa hai badan
ishq se kah do ke le aaye kahii.n se saavan
pyaas bha.Dakii hai sare shaam se jalataa hai badan

jalataa hai badan - 2
o ... haay jalataa hai badan
jalataa hai badan ...

Let's become strangers once again--Sahir Ludhyaanvi

A Beautiful Turn

Let’s, you and I,
Become strangers once again.

Let me not expect any solace
For love from you,
Nor you cast untoward
Glances at me.

Let my heart not show its beats
In the words I speak,
Nor your eyes reveal
The secrets you keep.

Something stops you
To come to me,
They tell me these splendors
Are not for me.

My friends are
The failures of my past
And you have the shadows
Of nights you spent with me.

If friendship gets sour,
It is better to forget it,
If a bond becomes a burden,
It is better to break it.

If a tale does not come
To its desired end,
It is better to leave it
With a beautiful bend.

Let’s, you and I,
Become strangers once again.

*****
Khuubasuurat Mo.D

Original in Urdu. A movie song.
Lyrics-Sahir Ludhiyanvi, Singer-Mahendra Kapoor, Music-Ravi


chalo ik baar phir se, ajanabii ban jaae.n ham dono
chalo ik baar phir se . .
na mai.n tumase koI ummiid rakhuu.n dilanavaazii kii
na tum merii taraf dekho galat a.ndaaz nazaro.n se
na mere dil kii dha.Dakan la.Dakha.Daaye merii baato.n se
na zaahir ho tumhaarii kashm\-kash kaa raaz nazaro.n se
chalo ik baar phir se . . .
tumhe.n bhii koI ulajhan rokatii hai peshakadamii se
mujhe bhii log kahate hai.n ki ye jalave paraae hai.n
mere hamaraah bhii rusavaaiyaa.n hai.n mere maazi kii
tumhaare saath bhii guzarii huii raato.n ke saaye hai.n
chalo ik baar phir se .. .
taarruf rog ho jaaye to usako bhuulanaa behatar
taalluk bojh ban jaaye to usako to.Danaa achchhaa
vo afasaanaa jise a.njaam tak laanaa naa ho mumakin
use ek khuubasuurat mo.D dekar chho.Danaa achchhaa
chalo ik baar phir se . .

Sometime I go on wondering--Sahir Ludhianavi

Sometime

Sometime I go on wondering:
If I had lived in the shadows of your curls,
My life would have been full of delights.
This darkness, the fate of my life,
Could have been lost in your eyes-lights.

It was not possible for me being a stranger
To lose myself in your elegance---
Your soft body, your hawk-like half-opened eyes—
And to live in a beautiful setting.

If bitterness of the world had called on me,
I would have taken from your lips a sip of sweetness.
If life had screamed to pull my head away from you,
I would have quietly lived in dark shadows of your hair.

But it could not happen.
It could not happen and now such are the things:
You are not with me, your sorrows and desires are not with me.
My life is now passing in ways
I desire no assurance from anyone.

I have been through all worries in the world,
I am walking now on roads unknown.
Dreadful shadows now surround me,
Wishing thorns—pains—to me.

Free, without a goal or a guiding light,
My life is now wandering through emptiness.
I will be lost in this emptiness one day,
I know this, my friend, but still

Sometime I go on wondering.

*****
Original in Urdu. This is my rendering. S5L3,4 may not be correct and may need revision.


Kabhi Kabhi

'kabhi kabhi mere dil mein khayal aata hai
ke zindagi teri zulfon ki narm chaon mein
guzarne pati to SHADAB ho bhi sakti thi
ye TIRAGI jo mere ZIST ka muqaddar hai
teri nazar ki SHUAON mein kho bhi sakti thi

ajab na tha ke main BEGANA-ILM hokar
tere JAMAL ki RANAION mein kho rahta
tera GADAZ badan teri NEEM BAAZ aankhen
inheen haseen FAZAOON mein main hoh rahta

pukarteen mujhe jab TALKHIYAN zamane ki
tere labon se HALAWAT ke ghoont pe leta
HAYAT cheekhti phirti BAREHNA-SAR aur mein
GHANERI zulfon ke saaye mein chup ke jee leta

magar yeh ho na saka,
magar yeh ho na saka aur ab yeh aalam hai
ke tu nahin tera gham teri JUSTJOO bhi nahin
guzar rahi hai kuch is tarah zindagi jaise
ise kisi ke sahare ki aarzoo bhi nahin

zamaane bhar ke dukhon ko laga chuka hoon gale
guzar raha hoon kuch anjani RAHGUZARON se
MUHIB SAAYE meri SIMAT bharte aate hain
HAYAT-O-MOUT ke PUR-HAUL KHAR-ZARON se

na koi JADAH na manzil na roshni ka suragh
bhatak rahi hai KHALON mein zindagi meri
inheen KHALON mein rah jaaonga kabhi kho kar
main jaanta hoon meri HUMNAFAS magar yunhi

kabhi kabhi mere dil mein khayal aata hai'

*****

Come--Amir Khusrau

Come

Today the news arrived: my lover by night would come.
I’ll sacrifice my head to road by which he will come.
The heads of all desert gazelles are in their hands,
Hoping you will hunt them the day you come.

The attraction of love will not keep you still.
If to my funeral you can’t make it, to my grave you’ll surely come.
My soul has now reached my lips, come for me to remain alive.
After I die, for what purpose you will come?



********
Original in Persian.

Khabaram raseed imshab ki nigaar khuahi aamad;
Sar-e man fidaa-e raah-e ki sawaar khuahi aamad.
Ham-e aahwan-e sehra sar-e khud nihada bar kaf;
Ba-umeed aanki rozi bashikaar khuahi aamad.

Kashishi ki ishq daarad naguzaradat badinsaa;
Ba-janazah gar nayai ba-mazaar khuahi aamad.
Balabam raseed jaanam fabiya ki zindah maanam;
Pas azan ki man na-maanam bacha kar khuahi aaamad.

********

Another version:

Tonight there came a news that you, oh beloved, would come –
Be my head sacrificed to the road along which you will come riding!
All the gazelles of the desert have put their heads on their hands
In the hope that one day you will come to hunt them….

The attraction of love won’t leave you unmoved;
Should you not come to my funeral,
you’ll definitely come to my grave.
My soul has come on my lips (e.g. I am on the point of expiring);
Come so that I may remain alive -
After I am no longer – for what purpose will you come?

(trans. A. Schimmel)

Color me in colors of love -- Amir Khusrau

Color me in colors of love,
You are my lover of lovers,
Color me in your love.
Color my scarf and my lover’s turban,
Color them both in the colors of spring.
Whatever you ask in return

I will give you.
You can even pawn
My youth as security.

You are my lover of lovers,
I have now come to your door,
Please guard my pride and dignity.

Color me in colors of love,
You are my lover of lovers,
Color me in your love.


*****
Original in Hindi.

Mohay apnay hi rung mein rung lay,
Tu to saaheb mera Mehboob-e-Ilaahi;
Mohay apnay hi rung mein……
Humri chundariya, piyaa ki pagariya,
Woh to donon basanti rung day;
Tu to saaheb mera …….
Jo kuch mangay rung ki rungaai,
Mora joban girvi rakhlay;
Tu to saaheb mera…….
Aan pari darbaar tehaaray,
Mori laaj saram sab rakh lay;
Tu to saaheb mera Mehboob-e-Ilaahi,
Mohay apnay hi rung mein rung lay

These happy maidens reaching adulthood - Kalidasa

Ritu Samhaaram of Kalidasa
Verse 5-10

These happy maidens reaching adulthood
Are full of desires for lovemaking.
They share stimulating hard drinks
With their lovers in the evenings.
Petals of lotus flowers placed
In the drinks for fragrance,
Undulate, when they let out sighs
Of pleasure of coming lovemaking.

(
**********************
Original in Sanskrit

sugandhi nishvaasa vikampita utpalam manoharam kaama rati prabodhakam |
nishaasu hR^iSTaaH saha kaamibhiH striyaH pibanti madyam madaniiyam uttamam || 10

Literal translation by Desirajhu Rao

In nights the gladdened women of age, desirous of lovemaking are consuming best, heart-stealing, excitant, and stimulant hard drinks along with their lovers, in which drinks lotus petal are placed for fragrance, and which lotus petals are undulated by the richly scented lusty suspirations of those women... [5-10]

Everyday at about ten a.m. - Kanwar Narain

Everyday at about ten a.m.
Everyday at about ten in the morning,
The same thing happens over and again.
The same people as usual go out,
Leaving behind wives and children at homes.
Still the earthquake does not shake the ground.
As the evening nears, the same people
Head back to their homes, all tired and defeated.

I know the earth will not shake this way,
Nothing will happen this way.
These people are afraid for some reason.
They, all over again, arrive
At the foregone conclusion
That lying is an art,
And every man is an artist,
Not after the reality of the world
But after his own craziness
To give meaning to his world.

Sometime when I return home in the evening,
I feel terrifying shapes, like thunderbolts,
Crashing through my soul,
As if someone crushed together
All colorless men and things
And pasted them on some blank spot
Against the blood colored ground.
And now all the hidden colors of men
Have sprung up by themselves.



Original in Hindi

Sometimes at Myself - Sahir Ludhianavai

Sometimes at myself,
Sometimes at things around me,
I began shedding my tears.
A soon as the words came out,
They brought tears to my eyes.
I thought I had forgotten her.
But what happened today?
What words made me cry?

What for do I live?
What for do I live?
Asking these questions,
Brought tears to my eyes.


*******

Original in Urdu/Hindi

Kabhi Khud Pe Kabhi Haalaat Pe Rona Aaya
Baat Nikli To Har Ik Baat Pe Rona Aaya

Hum To Samjhe The Ki Hum Bhool Gaye Hain Unko
Kya Hua Aaj Yeh Kis Baat Pe Rona Aaya
Kabhi Khud Pe...

Kis Liye Jeete Hain Hum Kiske Liye Jeete Hain
Baarha Aise Sawalat Pe Rona Aaya
Kabhi Khud Pe...

~Sahir Ludhianvi

These Merrymaking Young Ladies

Ritu Samhaaram of Kalidasa
Winter Season
Chapter [Sarga] 5
Verse 5-10

These merrymaking
Young ladies
Reaching adulthood,
Are ready
For lovemaking,
With their lovers
in the evenings.

They fill their glasses
With liquorish drinks,
Exotic and stimulating.
Petals of
Lotus flowers float,
In their glasses,
Fragrance, oozing.

When they take
Their sips,
Enjoying, expecting
Love making,
They let out
Sighs of pleasure,
Petals, undulating.


*********
Original in Sanskrit

sugandhi nishvaasa vikampita utpalam manoharam kaama rati prabodhakam |

nishaasu hR^iSTaaH saha kaamibhiH striyaH pibanti madyam madaniiyam uttamam || 10

Literal translation by Desirajhu Rao:

In nights the gladdened women of age, desirous of lovemaking are consuming best, heart-stealing, excitant, and stimulant hard drinks along with their lovers, in which drinks lotus petal are placed for fragrance, and which lotus petals are undulated by the richly scented lusty suspirations of those women... [5-10]

Young Ladies Lose Their Virginity

Ritu Samhaaram of Kalidasa
Winter Season
Chapter [Sarga] 5
Based on a literal translation by Desirajuh Rao at http://www.geocities.com/desirajuhrao/RS/sarga5/rs_5_frame.htm

************


Verse 5-7

Young ladies
Lose their virginity
In the long
Wintry nights.
Young hot men,
Thirsting for lust,
Take them with fervor
Repeatedly.

Worn out
And fully gratified,
Their breasts now aching,
In the early
Winter mornings,
Deflowered ladies,
Walk waveringly.

I begin crying- Sahir Ludianavi

Sometimes at myself,
Sometime at things
Around me,
I begin crying.
As soon as I say something,
At each word,
I begin crying.
I thought I would forget her.
What happened today?
Why am I now crying?

What for do I live?
What for do I live?
Thinking of these things,
I begin crying.


*********
Original in Hindi/Urdu
Film - Hum Dono
Lyrics - Saahir Ludhianvi
Music - S.D.Burman
Singer - Mohammed Rafi

Kabhi Khud Pe Kabhi Haalaat Pe Rona Aaya
Baat Nikli To Har Ik Baat Pe Rona Aaya

Hum To Samjhe The Ki Hum Bhool Gaye Hain Unko
Kya Hua Aaj Yeh Kis Baat Pe Rona Aaya
Kabhi Khud Pe...

Kis Liye Jeete Hain Hum Kiske Liye Jeete Hain
Baarha Aise Sawalat Pe Rona Aaya
Kabhi Khud Pe...

Dil Hi To Hai Na Sang-O-Khist - Mirza Ghalib

Original in Urdu. A Roman script text with explanations of difficult words at:
http://www.cs.wisc.edu/~navin/india/songs/ghalib/31.g

**********


1.
dil hee to hai na sang-o-KHisht dard se bhar na aaye kyoN ?
royeNge ham hazaar baar, koee hameiN sataaye kyoN ?

[ sang = stone, KHisht = brick ]

2.
dair naheeN, haram naheeN, dar naheeN, aastaaN naheeN
baiTHe haiN rehguzar pe ham, GHair hameiN uTHaaye kyoN ?

[ dair = temple, haram = mosque, dar = gate, aastaaN = abode,
rehguzar = path/way ]

3.
jab woh jamaal-e-dil_faroz, soorat-e-meher-e-neem_roz
aap hee ho nazzaara_soz, parde meiN muNh chupaaye kyoN ?

[ jamaal = beauty, faroz = shining/luminous, meher = sun,
neem_roz = mid day, nazzaara_soz = beautiful/worth seeing ]

4.
dashna-e-GHamza jaaN_sitaaN, naawak-e-naaz be_panaah
tera hee aks-e-ruKH sahee, saamne tere aaye kyoN ?

[ dashna = dagger, GHamza = amorous glance, jaaN_sitaaN = distroying
life, naawak = a kind of arrow, aks = image ]

5.
qaid-e-hayaat-o-band-e-GHam asl meiN dono ek haiN
maut se pehle aadmee GHam se nijaat paaye kyoN ?

[ hayaat = life, band-e-Gham = conceled sorrows,
nijaat = release/liberation ]

6.
husn aur uspe husn_zan rah gayee bulhawas ki sharm
apne pe 'eitmaad hai, GHair ko aazmaaye kyoN ?

[ husn_zan = favourable view, bulhawas = slave of passions/very
greedy, 'eitmaad = reliance/dependance ]

7.
waaN wo GHuroor-e-iz'z-o-naaz yaaN yeh hijaab-e-paas-e-waz'a
raah meiN ham mile kahaaN, bazm meiN wo bulaaye kyoN ?

[ GHuroor = pride, iz'z-o-naaz = respect and beauty,
hijaab = veil/modesty, paas = regard, waz'a = behaviour ]

8.
haaN wo naheeN KHuda_parast, jaao wo be_wafa sahee
jisko ho deen-o-dil 'azeez, uskee galee meiN jaaye kyoN ?

[ parast = worshipper, deen = religion/faith ]

9.
'GHalib'-e-KHasta ke baGHair kaun se kaam band haiN ?
roiye zaar-zaar kya, keejiye haay-haay kyoN ?

[ KHasta = sick/injured, zaar-zaar = bitterly ]


For a transaltion of this Ghazal
see: http://www.boloji.com/ghalib/ghalib3.htm
**************************************************

My rendering:

1
It is my heart,
It is not a piece of brick or a stone.
Why shouldn’t it be full of pain
When I cry a thousand times?
Why should they keep on bothering me?

2
Not at a temple, nor at a mosque,
Nor at someone’s door or porch,
I am resting by the walking path,
Why should they tell me to buzz off?

3
With shining grace in her heart,
With face like a midday sun,
Her beauty is worth to behold.
Why should she be hiding
Her face behind a veil?

4
Her love-glances are like daggers.
Her arrows of love are fatal.
She is pointing them at you.
Why should she show herself to you?

5
The ways of life
And the hidden sorrows,
Are one and the same thing.
How can a man then be
Free from sorrows before he dies?

6
Love is full of desirable things,
But what’s shameful is lust for it.
When one is firm in his standing,
Why should he test the strangers for it?

7
There she is with pride of her beauty,
Here I am with modesty and regards.
Where can we meet on the way?
Why should she invite me to her place?

8
Yes, she does not believe in God,
She is truly an unfaithful one.
If one has faith in his heart,
Why should he go to her alley?

9
Besides the broken-hearted Ghalib,
What else is going to stand still?
Why should we then cry times and again?
Why should we then let out our sighs?

Whatever you like, I will do for you

Original:

Hindi Song Title: Jo Tumko Ho Pasand Wahi Baat Karenge
Hindi Movie/Album Name: SAFAR Singer(s): MUKESH

Jo Tumko Ho Pasand Wahi Baat Karenge
Tum Din Ko Agar Raat Kaho Raat Kahenge

Dete Na Aap Saath To Mar Jaate Hum Kabhi Ke
Poore Huye Hain Aapse Armaan Zindagi Ke
Hum Zindagi Ko Aap Ki Saugaat Kahenge
Tum Din Ko Agar...

Chaahenge... Nibhayenge... Sarhayenge Aap Hi Ko
Aankon Mein Dam Hai Jab Tak Dekhenge Aap Hi Ko
Apni Zubaan Se Aapke Jazbaat Kahenge
Tum Din Ko Agar...

*********
Literal translation:

What you like that talk I will speak
you day if night say, I night say

not give you my company then died I would have unknown time
fulfilled my desires with you of life
I life to your gift I will say
you day to say...

desire...tolerate..adore you
eyes in life is till I will you see

my tongue with your praise will say
you day to if...

***********
Final form:

Whatever you like, I will do for you
If you call the day a night, I will agree with you

I will love you, adore you, tolerate you
Until my eyes can see, I will see only you
I will sing praises of you
If you say the day a night, I’ll agree with you

Were you not with me, I’d had died long ago
I have fulfilled my desires with you
I’d say my life was a gift from you
If you call the day a night, I’ll agree with you

If you forsake me, my love - Mira

Original in Hindi:
jo tum todo piyaa main naahi todu
jo tum todo piyaa main naahi todu

toso preet tod krishna kaun sang jodu
toso preet tod krishna kaun sang jodu

jo tum todo piyaa main naahi todu
jo tum todo piyaa main naahi todu

tum bhaye taruvar main bhai pankhiyaa
tum bhaye sarovar main teri machiyaa

tum bhaye girivar main bhai chaaraa
tum bhaye chandaa main bhai chakoraa

jo tum todo piyaa main naahi todu
jo tum todo piyaa main naahi todu

tum bhaye moti prabhu hum bhaye dhaagaa
tum bhaye moti prabhu hum bhaye dhaagaa
tum bhaye sonaa hum bhaye suhaagaa

meeraa kahe prabhu ..........

meeraa kahe prabhu braj ke vaasi
meeraa kahe prabhu braj ke vaasi

tum mere thaakur main teri daasi

jo tum todo piyaa main naahi todu
jo tum todo piyaa main naahi todu

toso preet tod krishna kaun sang jodu
toso preet tod krishna kaun sang jodu

jo tum todo piyaa main naahi todu
jo tum todo piyaa main naahi todu

~Mira
********************
Literal translation:

If you break love I no break
With love break Krishna with who company make

You be tree I be bird
You be sea I be fish

You be mountain I be grass
You be gold I be moon-bird

You be pearl I be thread
You be gold I be ashes

Mira says Lord Braj dweller
You my Lord I your servant


*********************
Final form:

If you forsake me, my love
I will never leave you

If I forsake my love
With who I fall in love?

If you be a tree, I’d love to be a bird
If you be a sea, I’d love to be a fish

If you be a mountain, I’d love to be weeds
If you be a moon, I’d love to be the moon-bird

If you be a pearl, I’d love to be the thread
If you be the gold, I’d love to be ashes

Mira says the Lord lives in Brindavan
He is her Lord, she is his servant.

False is the love of false-ones - Nanak

Turn away, O mind,
Turn away from faithless-fools,
False is the love of false-ones.
Heed them not for a moment,
Break your bonds
From faithless-ones.

Entering a house full of soot
Will only blacken your face!
Those, set free by their guru

Of the bondage of three-states,
Flee away from faithless-fools.
O Lord of mercy!

I beg you to bless me,
Don’t let me see
The faces of faithless-fools.

Nanak says this:
Let me be the slave of your slaves,
Let my head roll in dust

Under the feet of holy-ones.

***
Rendering a hymn
from Sri Guru Granth Sahib
entitled 'Ulti-ray man ulti-ray'

My body and soul belongs to the Dark One - Mira Bai

Tying tiny silver bells to my feet
I went into a dancing frenzy,
The town-folks thought
I was going crazy…
My mother-in-law complained
I would ruin the clan,
And the prince then delivered
A cup full of poison

For me to drink and die...
I laughed as I drank the poison
But no harm came to me!
Why can’t they see

My body and soul belongs
To the Dark One?
He can lift the mountains
To protect me…



An original rendering
of Mirabai's poem in Hindi

Listen to my gentle plea

Original in Hindi:

karunaa suno shyaam mori
main to hoi rahi cheri tori

tumare kaaran sab sukh choryo
ab mohe kyon tarasaaho

biraha vyathaa laagi aur antar
so tum aaye bujhaao

~ ?
***********
Literal Translation:

Plea listen Dark One mine
I did become disciple your

your reason all happiness I forsake
now me why crave

pains separation happened deep inside
so you come extinguish

*************
Final form:

Listen to my gentle plea, my Dark One,
I am a new disciple of yours.

I gave up all luxuries for you,
Why do you now make me crave for you?

Separation-pangs are now dug deep in me,
Please come and take my pains away.

What’s this thing called heart!

Hindi Song Title: Dil Cheez Kya Hai
Hindi Movie/Album
Name: UMRAO JAAN Singer(s): ASHA BHOSLE

Aa aa aa aa, aa aa aa
Dil cheez kya hai aap meri jaan lijiye - 2
Bas ek baar mera kaha
Bas ek baar mera kaha maan lijiye - 2
Dil cheez kya hai aap meri jaan lijiye
Is anjuman mein aap ko
Is anjuman mein, aah, aah aah aah
Is anjuman mein aap ko
Is anjuman mein aap ko aana hai baar baar
Aana hai baar baar
Deevaar-o-dar ko gaur se
Deevaar-o-dar ko gaur se pehchaan lijiye - 2
Dil cheez kya hai aap meri jaan lijiye
Maana ke doston ko nahin
Doston, doston ko nahin
Maana ke doston ko nahin dosti ka paas
Lekin yeh kya ke gair ka
Lekin yeh kya ke gair ka ehsaan lijiye - 2
Dil cheez kya hai aap meri jaan lijiye
Kahiye to
Kahiye to aasmaan ko
Kahiye to aasmaan ko zameen par utaar laaye
Mushkil nahin hai kuch bhi
Mushkil nahin hai kuch bhi agar thaan lijiye - 2
Dil cheez kya hai aap meri jaan lijiye
Bas ek baar, bas ek baar
Bas ek baar mera kaha maan lijiye
Maan lijiye, maan lijiye

************************************

First attempt:

What’s this thing called heart!

You can even take my life,
But once,
Only for once,
Please agree to what I say.

In this garden (?),
Yes, in this garden (?),
You’ll have to come
Again and again.
Please see this door
And the wall, very well.

I didn’t embrace
My friends for friendship.
Why don’t you now
Oblige this stranger?

If you tell me to bring
The skies down to the earth,
It won’t be so hard
If you take thaan (?) from me.

But once,
Only for once,
Please agree to what I say.


*********************************
Note: Please translate difficult words such as anjuman, maana and thaan.

The Dark Lover - Mira

Original in Hindi:

he rî maim to prema dîvânî, merâ dard na jâne koya
sûlî ûpara seja hamârî, kisa bidha sonâ hoya
gagana maNDala pai seja piyâ kî, kisa bidha milana hoya

ghâyala kî gati ghâyala jânai, kî jina lâî hoya
jauhar kî gati jauhar jânai, kî jina jauhar hoya
dard kî mârî bana bana Dolûm baida milâ nahim koya
mîrâ kî prabhu pîra miTaigî jaba baida sâmvaliyâ hoya

~Mira
************************
My rendering:

O my girl friends,
I am going crazy in love,
No body knows my pains.

My bed is on the gallows,
How can I sleep there now ?
My lover’s bed is in the paradise,
How can I sleep there with him?

The wounded knows
How it feels to be wounded,
How the flames burn the body.

The jeweler knows
What it takes to be a jeweler,
He knows the real worth of the jewels.

Suffering in pains,
I’m now wander in forests,
I cannot find a medic there.

Mira’s pains will go away
Only on finding her medic--
The Dark Lover.

I hear him coming - Mira Bai

Original in Hindi:

barasai badariyaa saavan kii,
saavan kii man bhaavan kii.
saavan me.n umagyo mero manavaa,
bhanak sunii hari aavan kii..
uma.D ghuma.D chahu.n disase aayo,
daamaNa damake jhar laavan kii.
naanhii.n naanhii.n buu.ndan mehaa barasai,
siital pavan sohaavan kii..
miiraa.N ke prabhu giradhar naagar,
aananda ma.ngal gaavan kii..

~Mira Bai
********************

My rendering:

It is pouring down
In the month of monsoons,
The clouds are pleasing my heart!

But when the rains come,
My heart longs for him.
I hear him coming!

Everywhere I see,
I see the clouds gathering,
They thunder and then it rains.

Tiny rain drops fall from the clouds
And the cool breeze then pleases me.
My Lord is Girdhar Nagar

I sing for him joyfully,
In the month of monsoons.

Gayatri Mantra

Original in Sanskrit:

Om Bhoor Bhuvah Svah
Tat Savitur Varenyam
Bhargo Devasya Dheemahi
Dhiyo Yonah Prachodayaat.

Rig Veda (iii, 62, 10)

**************************************
Words:

Om: The primeval sound
Bhur: the physical world
Bhuvah: the mental world
Suvah: the celestial, spiritual world
Thath: That; God; transcendental Paramatma
Savithur: the Sun, Creator, Preserver
Varenyam: most adorable, enchanting
Bhargo: luster, effulgence
Devasya: resplendent,supreme Lord
Dheemahi: we meditate upon
Dhiyo: the intellect,understanding
Yo: May this light
Nah: our
Prachodayath: enlighten,guide,inspire

http://www.sathyasai.org/devotion/prayers/gayatri.html

************************************************

My rendering:

O God, the most enchanting creator
Of the physical, the mental and the spiritual worlds,
We meditate on your radiant splendor.
May your luster guide our intellect!

Something, Something Is Happening To Me

A Hindi movie song:
Kuch Kuch Hota Hai

Tum paas aaye, yun muskuraaye
Tumne na jaane kya sapne dikhaaye
Ab to mera dil jaage na sota hai
Kya karoon haaye, kuch kuch hota ha

Na jaane kaisa ehsaas hai
Bujhti nahin hai kya pyaas hai
Kya nasha is pyaar ka
Mujhpe sanam chhaane laga

Koi na jaane kyoon chain khota hai
Kya karoon haaye, kuch kuch hota hai
Kya rang laayi meri dua
Yeh ishq jaane kaise hua

Bechainiyon mein chain
Na jaane kyoon aane laga
Tanhaai mein dil yaadein sanjota hai
Kya karoon haaye, kuch kuch hota hai
__________________________________________

English rendering:

Something, something is happening to me

You came by and smiled like this,
You don’t know what dreams you roused in me!
My heart is now awake, it does not sleep.
What do I do now, oh!
Something, something is happening to me.

I don’t know what feeling is this,
What insatiable thirst is this,
O dear, what is this drunkenness of love
That is now taking hold of me?

No one knows why I’m losing my peace.
What I do now, oh!
Something, something is happening to me.
In colors were answered my prayers,
Still I don’t know how I fell in love.

Peace in restlessness,
I don’t know why I happen to feel.
My heart in loneliness,
Now goes through memories.
What do I do now, oh!
Something, something is happening to me.

Bhagavad Gita 17: 20-22

Charity given to the deserving
In the act of charity itself,
With no expectations for return,
Is the sattvic charity.

Charity given half-heartedly,
Expecting favors or spiritual
Blessings in return,
Is the rajasic charity.

Charity given to the undeserving
At the wrong time and place
Without feelings of affection or respect,
Is the tamastic charity.

~Lord Krishna
Bhagavad Gita 17: 20-22

Your eyes full of life

Jeevan Se Bhari Teri Aankhen
Majboor Karen Jeene Ke Liye
Saagar Bhi Taraste Rehte Hain
Tere Hoth Ka Ras Peene Ke Liye

Your eyes full of life
Force me to live my life,
Even the oceans earnestly seek
Sips of elixirs from your lips.


***
A stanza of a Hindi love song

I took off all clothes - Mira

Original in Hindi:
sîla santoSha kî kesara gholî
prema prîti picakâra
uRata gulâla, lâla bhaye bâdala
barsata rang apâra
ghaTa ke saba paTa khola diye haim
loka lâja saba Dâra
mîrâ ke prabhu giradhara nâgara
caraNa kamala balihâra

~Mira

_________________________________

My rendering:

Virtue and happiness I mixed
Together in the saffron colored waters,
I pumped them in the water-gun
Of love and affection,
Flying pink fountains made
The clouds red in color,
They rained in many colors.
I took off all clothes
From my worldly body,
I threw away all worldly shame.
Mira’s lord is that charming
Holder of mountains,
She sacrifices herself at his lotus-feet.

Krishna, when will you come to me? – Mira Bai

I send him letters,
But my dear Krishna
Sends no response to me.
He keeps his silence purposefully.
I sweep the path,
I keep it ready
For him to come to me.
I wait and gaze
Till my eyes turn blood-shot,
But he does not come to me.
Every passing day and night,
I’m now getting restless,
I feel my heart is going to break.
O my Dark One, you were with me
In all my former lives.
When will you come to me?

*****

Original in Hindi.

I just had an affair with him -- Amir Khusrau

I just had an affair with him,
What the house-wives or the maidens say,
I will not care.
I just had an affair with him.
His face was beautiful,
His body was charming like an idol,
I hid myself in his heart.
I just had an affair with him.

I will give myself to Nijam,
He called me his favorite devotee.
What the housewives or maiden say,
I will not care.

I just had an affair with him.


*****
Original in Hindi.

Main to piya say naina lada aayi ray,
Ghar naari kanwari kahay so karay,
Main to piya say naina lada aayi ray.
Sohni suratiya, mohni muratiya,
Main to hriday kay peechay samaa aayi ray;
Khusrau Nijaam kay bal bal jayyiye
Main to anmol cheli kaha aayi ray,
Ghar naari kanwari kahay so karay,
Main to piya say naina lada aayi ray.

You keep on running away from the world -- Sahir Ludhianvi

You keep on running away from the world,
How can you realize the higher one?
You could not make peace with this world,
You are going to regret in the next world.
What are the sins, what are the virtues?
All rituals seem to be stamped with religions.
How will you make the evolving religions
Ideal with the changing times?

Sensual pleasures are there too to test for,
You don’t know them by abandoning the world.
You will insult the higher one
If you keep on kicking this world.

I say this world is all ours,
You say this world is a dream.
I will pass away living full life,
You will die wasting your life.


*****
Original in Urdu/Hindi. Now a song for the Indian
movie 'Chitralekha'.

Sansar se bhaage phirte ho
Bhagwaan ko tum kya paoge
Is lok ko bhi apna na sakye
Ush lok mein bhi pachtaaoge

Yeh Paap hein kyaa Ye punya hein kya
Reeton par dharam ki muharyen hein
Harr yug mein badalte dharmo ko
Kaise aadarsha banaoge

Ye bhog bhi ek tapasya hai
Tum tyag ke maarye kya jaano
Apmaan racheta ka hoga
Rachana ko agar thukraaoge

Hum kahete hein ye jag apna hein
Tum kehete ho jhootha sapna hein
Hum janam bitakar jaayenge
Tum janam gawaan kar jaaoge..

Color me in your color -- Amir Khusrau

Color me in your color,
You are my God-like lover,
Color me in your love.
Color my scarf and my lover’s turban,
Color them both in the colors of spring.
Whatever you ask in return

I will give you.
You can even pawn
My youth as security.

You are my God-like lover,
I have now come to your door,
Please guard my pride and dignity.

Color me in your color,
You are my God-like lover,
Color me in your love.


*****
Original in Hindi

Mohay apnay hi rung mein rung lay,
Tu to saaheb mera Mehboob-e-Ilaahi;
Mohay apnay hi rung mein……
Humri chundariya, piyaa ki pagariya,
Woh to donon basanti rung day;
Tu to saaheb mera …….
Jo kuch mangay rung ki rungaai,
Mora joban girvi rakhlay;
Tu to saaheb mera…….
Aan pari darbaar tehaaray,
Mori laaj saram sab rakh lay; Tu to saaheb mera Mehboob-e-Ilaahi,
Mohay apnay hi rung mein rung lay

Just by casting a glance -- Amir Khusrau

You stole me just by casting a glance,
You made me drunk in love,
You made me loony in love,
Just by casting a glance.
You hold my fair arms,
You hold my green bangles,
You take my life,
Just by casting a glance.

O my clothes-dyer,
You have dyed me in your love,
Just by casting a glance.

I give myself to you, O Nijam,
You made me yours
Just by casting a glance.


*****
Original in Hindi

Chhap tilak sab cheeni ray mosay naina milaikay
Chhap tilak sab cheeni ray mosay naina milaikay
Prem bhatee ka madhva pilaikay
Matvali kar leeni ray mosay naina milaikay
Gori gori bayyan, hari hari churiyan
Bayyan pakar dhar leeni ray mosay naina milaikay
Bal bal jaaon mein toray rang rajwa
Apni see kar leeni ray mosay naina milaikay
Khusrau Nijaam kay bal bal jayyiye
Mohay Suhaagan keeni ray mosay naina milaikay
Chhap tilak sab cheeni ray mosay naina milaikay

My lover by night will come -- Amir Khusrau

Today the news arrived: my lover by night would come.
Be my head be sacrificed to the road riding on which you’ll come.
All the desert-gazelles have put their heads on their hands,
Hoping you will hunt them the day you come.
The attraction of love will not keep you still,
If to my funeral you cannot come, to my grave you’ll surely come.
My soul has now reached my lips, come for me to remain alive,
After I am no longer here, for what purpose you will come?

*****

Origial in Persian. My rendering is mainly based on a translation by A. Schimmel.

Khabaram raseed imshab ki nigaar khuahi aamad;
Sar-e man fidaa-e raah-e ki sawaar khuahi aamad.
Ham-e aahwan-e sehra sar-e khud nihada bar kaf;
Ba-umeed aanki rozi bashikaar khuahi aamad.

Kashishi ki ishq daarad naguzaradat badinsaa;
Ba-janazah gar nayai ba-mazaar khuahi aamad.
Balabam raseed jaanam fabiya ki zindah maanam;
Pas azan ki man na-maanam bacha kar khuahi aaamad.

*****
Another version:

Tonight there came a news that you, oh beloved, would come –
Be my head sacrificed to the road along which you will come riding!
All the gazelles of the desert have put their heads on their hands
In the hope that one day you will come to hunt them….

The attraction of love won’t leave you unmoved;
Should you not come to my funeral,
you’ll definitely come to my grave.
My soul has come on my lips (e.g. I am on the point of expiring);
Come so that I may remain alive -
After I am no longer – for what purpose will you come?
(trans. A. Schimmel)

A Daughter-Mother Duet -- Amir Khusrau

Mother, send me my daddy,
The rains have come.
Daughter, your daddy is now old,
How can he come?

```
Mother, send me my brother,
The rains have come.

Daughter, you brother is too young,
He cannot come.

```
Mother, send me my uncle,
The rains have come.

Daughter, your uncle is a loony in love,
He will not come.


*****

Original in Hindi

Amman meray baba ko bhaijo ri - Ke saavan ayaa
Beti tera baba to boodha ri - Ke saavan ayaa

Amman meray bhai ko bhaijo ri - Ke saavan ayaa
Beti tera bhai to baala ri - Ke saavan ayaa

Amman meray mamu ko bhaijo ri - Ke saavan ayaa
Beti tera mamu to baanka ri - Ke saavan ayaa

Enjoy the spring, beautiful bride -- Amir Khusrau

Enjoy the spring, beautiful bride,
Enjoy the spring today.
Put on the make-up
On you face and lashes
And comb your long hair.
You're still deep in sleep,
Get up, beautiful bride.
Destiny is knocking on your door,
Enjoy this spring, O bride.

A snobbish lady with arrogant looks,
That’s what you are.
King Amir, on seeing you,
Will cast love-glances on you.

The spring is here again,
Enjoy the spring today.


*****
Original in Hindi

Aaj basant manaalay suhaagun,
Aaj basant manaalay;
Anjan manjan kar piya mori,
Lambay neher lagaaye;
Tu kya sovay neend ki maasi,
So jaagay teray bhaag, suhaagun,
Aaj basant manalay…..;
Oonchi naar kay oonchay chitvan,
Ayso diyo hai banaaye;
Shaah-e Amir tohay dekhan ko,
Nainon say naina milaaye,
Suhaagun, aaj basant manaalay.

Couplets of Amir Khusrau

The original 'doahs' are in Hindi and follow the translations that are mine.

On the night of honey moon,
The bride is awake all night,
Lying in bed with her groom.
She says: “My body is mine,
But my heart is yours,
We are now one in love.”
`````
Khusrau raen suhaag ki, jaagi pi ke sung,
Tun mero mun pi-u ko, dovu bhaye ek rung.

*****
My beloved left me,
He left me and crossed the river,
All on his own.
I am now standing here,
All alone.
`````
Bae gaye baalam, bae gaye nadia kinaar,
Aapay paar utar gaye, hum to rahay ehi paar

*****
O brother! O oarsman!
Please take me across the river.
I will give you in return,
Bangles of gold on my wrists
And the necklace around my neck
`````
Bhai ray malla jo hum kon paar utaar,
Haath ka devongi mandra, gal ka devun haar.

*****
Before I went to see my beloved,
I put all make-up
To look beautiful in my face.
When I saw how handsome he was,
I forget all my make-up,
I even forgot my face.
`````
Apni chhab banaikay, jo main pi kay paas gayi
Chhab dekhi jab piyu ki so apni bhool gayi.

*****
With my beloved I play
The game of love.
If I win, he is mine,
If I lose, I am his.
`````
Khusrau baazi prem ki main khelun pi ke sung,
Jeet gayi to piya moray, haari, pi kay sung.

*****
My beautiful lady is
Waiting for me,
Sitting on a bed of flowers.
Let me hurry,
The night is falling fast,
Let me hurry back home.
`````
Gori sovay sej par, mukh par daaray kes,
Chal Khusrau ghar aapnay, saanjh bhayee chahu des.

*****
What you need to do is this:
Put you soul and heart to work,
As Hindus always do.
In their Karma, they even burn
Themselves as offerings to their gods.
`````
Khusrau aesee peet kar, jaisay hindu joye,
Poot karaye kaarnay, jal jal koyla hoye.

*****
The river of love goes
Strangely against its flow.
Those who jump into it,
They drown.
And those who drown,
Find love.

******
Khusrau darya prem ka, ulti wa ki dhaar,
Jo utra so doob gaya, jo dooba so paar.

O Gentlemen -- Sahir Ludhianavi

O Gentlemen

It may be your blood or theirs,
It is the human blood after all.
War may go on in the East or the West,
It will bleed the peace of world, after all.

Bombs may fall on homes or on outskirts,
They wound the spirit of life after all.
Our crops may burn or theirs,
The famine will kill humans, after all.

Tanks may move forward or recede
They tear open the Earth after all.
Be it the victory of war or the mourning of defeat,
Life sheds tears on death after all.

So, O gentlemen!
It is better to end the war.
In the courtyards, yours and ours,
It is better to keep the candles burning.


*****
Original in Urdu

Ai Shareef Insano

Khoon apna ho ya paraya ho
Nasl-e-aadam ka khoon hai aakhir
Jung Maghrib mein ho ke Mashriq mein
Amn-e-aalam ka khoon hai aakhir.

Bam gharon par girey ke sarhad par
Rooh-e-taameer zakhm khaati hai
Kheit apney jalein ke auron ke
Zeest faaqon mein tilmilaati hai.

Tank aage barhen ke peeche hatein
Kokh dharti ki baanjh hoti hai
Fateh ka jashn ho ke haar ka soq
Zindgi mayyaton pe roti hai.

Is liye aye shareef insaano
Jung chalti rahe to behtar hai
Aap aur hum, sabhi ke aangan mein
Shama jalti rahe to behtar hai.

Here -- Gagan Gill

Here

Here she will hide in her skeleton
Escaping the assaults
On her youthful beauty.

Here she will bury herself
Under her grief,
Hiding from her soul.

Here she will go through
The ordeals of her body and dreams.

She will look for a corner
In the poetry of others.

This is the stone
That she will lick.

The one that is a fish
And the other, a finless fish,
Both will drown here,
Right here.


*****

Original in Hindi

Yahhan

Chepegi weh
Kankal main apne
Yuva chawi se baachkar

Yahan dhansegi weh
Santap main apney
Atma se chip kar

Noch dalegi
Yahan vipikhsta
Deh aur swapan

Dundeghi weh
Tinka bhar jagah
Dusron ki kavita main

Yahi weh pathar hai
Jisey chantegi weh

Ek jo machli hai
Ek jo a-machli hai

Dunbegi
Dono hi

Yahan

Mourning of Kanjika -- Gagan Gill

Mourning of Kanjika

It is the first night.
Flour is spread
Everywhere on the floor.

She will come,
Perhaps, and go back,
Leaving her foot imprint.

We will sleep,
Perhaps, all morning,
We will sleep.

She will see us,
Perhaps, but later
She will not see us.

We will pluck,
Perhaps, in the morning
We will pluck our hair.

She will rest,
Perhaps, midway
She will rest.

We will forget,
Perhaps, this grief
We will forget.


*****
Original in Hindi

Let’s Become Strangers Once Again -- Sahir Ludhianvi

A Beautiful Bend

Let’s, you and I,
Become strangers once again.

Let me not expect any solace
For love from you,
Nor you cast untoward
Glances at me.

Let my heart not show
Its beats in the words I speak,
Nor your eyes reveal
The secrets you keep.

Something stops you
To come towards me,
They tell me these splendors
Are not for me.

My friends are
The failures of my past
And you have the shadows
Of nights you spent with me.

If friendship gets sour,
It is better to forget it,
If a bond becomes a burden,
It is better to break it.

If a tale cannot be brought
To its desired end,
It is better to leave it
With a beautiful bend.

Let’s, you and I,
Become strangers once again.


*****

Original in Urdu. Singer:Mahendra Kapoor, Music:Ravi

Khuubasuurat Mo.D

chalo ik baar phir se, ajanabii ban jaae.n ham dono
chalo ik baar phir se . .
na mai.n tumase koI ummiid rakhuu.n dilanavaazii kii
na tum merii taraf dekho galat a.ndaaz nazaro.n se
na mere dil kii dha.Dakan la.Dakha.Daaye merii baato.n se
na zaahir ho tumhaarii kashm\-kash kaa raaz nazaro.n se
chalo ik baar phir se . . .
tumhe.n bhii koI ulajhan rokatii hai peshakadamii se
mujhe bhii log kahate hai.n ki ye jalave paraae hai.n
mere hamaraah bhii rusavaaiyaa.n hai.n mere maazi kii
tumhaare saath bhii guzarii huii raato.n ke saaye hai.n
chalo ik baar phir se .. .
taarruf rog ho jaaye to usako bhuulanaa behatar
taalluk bojh ban jaaye to usako to.Danaa achchhaa
vo afasaanaa jise a.njaam tak laanaa naa ho mumakin
use ek khuubasuurat mo.D dekar chho.Danaa achchhaa
chalo ik baar phir se . .

I am the lover in you -- Manpreet Kaur Preet

You came
As if the spring came
And a flower blossomed
At the turn of my life.
Now each evening,
Life brings me a new dream.
When I am away from you,
Dreams bring me closer to you.
The breeze brings your scent
To my hair and says:
“I am with you,
I am the breath in you.
I am the lover in you.”

Original in Punjabi script, 'Tum Ayay, Bahar Ayee'.

Poem X (from Magnolia) -- Marosa Di Giorgio

This melon is a rose,
He smells like a rose,
There has to be an angel inside
With heart and groins always on fires.
He is a saint,
Everything he touches
Turns into gold and perfume;
He has all virtues, no flaws,
I pray for him,
Later in a poem I will celebrate him.
Now I only say he is
A lightening,
A perfume,
A son of roses.

*****

Original in Spanish

Poema X (de Magnolia)

Este melón es una rosa,
este perfuma como una rosa,
adentro debe tener un ángel
con el corazón y la cintura siempre en llamas.
Este es un santo,
vuelve de oro y de perfume
todo lo que toca;
posee todas las virtudes, ningún defecto,
Yo le rezo,
después lo voy a festejar en un poema.
ahora, sólo digo lo que él es:
un relámpago,
un perfume,
el hijo varón de las rosas.

Marosa Di Giorgio

The Knife Sharpener -- Juana de Ibarbourou

The Knife Sharpener

This terrible pain builds up every night
For a new pair of wings…
Where will be those who yesterday
Put on my shoulders the insomnia
Of the first hour of dawn!

Day, the knife-sharpener of the gold-scissors,
The steel-daggers and the iron-backs;
Last night I had the wings
And I reached the sky.
But this morning
You arrived with your flute and stone
And your twelve silver-knives.

Then, slowly began cutting the wings.


*****

Original in Spanish

El afilador

Este dolor heroico de hacerse para cada noche
Un nuevo par de alas...
Dónde estarán las que ayer puso sobre mis hombros
El insomnio de la primera hora del alba!

Día, afilador de tijeras de oro,
Y puñales de acero, y espaldas de hierro;
Anoche yo tenía alas
Y estuve cerca del cielo.
Pero esta mañana
Llegaste tú con tu flauta, tu piedra.
Tus doce cuchillos de plata.

Y lentamente me fuiste cortando las alas.

Juana de Ibarbourou

La plaza tiene una torre -- Antonio Machado

There is a tower in the plaza,
In the tower there's a balcony,
In the balcony there's a lady,
A lady, a white flower.
There passed a young man.
-Does anyone knows why?-,
And he carried the plaza,
With its tower, its balcony,
With its balcony, its lady,
His lady and his white flower.

*****

Original in Spanish

La plaza tiene una torre,
la torre tiene un balcón,
el balcón tiene una dama,
la dama una blanca flor.
Ha pasado un caballero
- ¡quién sabe por qué pasó! -,
y se ha llevado la plaza
con su torre y su balcón,
con su balcón y su dama,
su dama y su blanca flor.

~Antonio Machado

A Quatrain -- Faiz Ahmed Faiz

Last night, somehow, you slipped into my lost memories.
Like the spring in the outback coming quietly,
Like the morning breeze in the desert blowing gently,
Like an ailing man getting well unknowingly.

*****
Original in Urdu

Raat yunh dil mein teri khoee hui yaad aayee
Jaise veeraaney mein chupkey sey bahaar aa jaye
Jaisey sehra on mein howley se chaley baadey naseem
Jaisey beemaar ko bey wajhey Qaraar aa jaaye

~ Faiz Ahmed Faiz

The Hour - Juana Ibarbourou

Take me now though it’s early,
I bring fresh dahlias in my hands.
Take me now though it’s somber,
And my head is quiet.

Now that my body smells sweet,
Eyes are clean and like roses is my skin.

Now that I have on my feet
The living sandals of the spring.

Now that on my lips the laughter rings,
Like a bell rings in hurry.

Later….Ah! I know later
Nothing much of it will remain!

Useless will be then your desire,
Like an offering placed in a mausoleum..

Take me now though it’s early,
My hands with nard are richly creamed.

Today, but not much late. Before the night falls,
And the fresh corolla withers off.

Today, not tomorrow. Oh Lover! Don’t you see
That a creeper grows into a cypress?


*****
Original in Spanish

La Hora

Tómame ahora que aun es temprano
y que llevo dalias nuevas en la mano.

Tómame ahora que aun es sombría
esta taciturna cabellera mía.

Ahora que tengo la carne olorosa
y los ojos limpios y la piel de rosa.

Ahora que calza mi planta ligera
la sandalia viva de la primavera.

Ahora que mis labios repica la risa
como una campana sacudida a prisa.

Después..., ¡ah, yo sé
que ya nada de eso mas tarde tendré!

Que entonces inútil será tu deseo,
como ofrenda puesta sobre un mausoleo.

¡Tómame ahora que aun es temprano
y que tengo rica de nardos la mano!

Hoy, y no mas tarde. Antes que anochezca
y se vuelva mustia la corola fresca.

Hoy, y no mañana. ¡Oh amante! ¿no ves
que la enredadera crecerá ciprés?

~ Juana Ibarbourou