Without knowing my number, enclosed by walls and borders, I walk around with a prisoner’s moon and perpetual shadow chained to my ankle. Living frontiers arise a step beyond my footsteps. There is neither north nor south, east or west, only a multiplied loneliness exists, a loneliness divided by a cipher of men. Time’s race…
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To Madame Curie Oft have I thrilled at deeds of high emprise, And yearned to venture into realms unknown, Thrice blessed she, I deemed, whom God had shown How to achieve great deeds in woman’s guise. Yet what discov’ry by expectant eyes Of foreign shores, could vision half the throne Full gained by her, whose…
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The Sunflower Bring me the sunflower here and let me set it in the parched briny soil of my own place to turn all day to the heavens that reflect it the broad gaze of its yellow yearning face. Things of the dark aspire to all that’s bright, their forms dissolving into a cascade of…
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Knowing Robs Us Knowing robs us of wonder. Had it not ripped apart the fearful robes of primordial Night to steal the design that crafted horns on doghead and sowed insurrection overnight in the homely beak of a hen; had reason not given us assurance that day will daily break and the sun’s array return…
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Silent Mark another day is here and my hands are still covered with a mantle of stoic ink words scribbled on a hesitant paper wishing to be read now not later. i want you to see this point-like light from an abyss growing tongues tasting the wind feel like the knife scraping soft butter and…
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Every night I sneak out Into the world, The world of clones. My body turns into a figure I barely recognize; face doesn’t reflect mine My mouth speaks a different language Only my soul sees it’s twin! I almost fly And do things which I have not imagined Even in my wildest of dreams. I…
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I go through the snow. I closed My eyes, but the light can still get through My porous eyelids, and I perceive That in my words it’s still the snow That swirls, thickens, bursts. Snow, A letter that we find and unfold, And the ink on it has faded and in the marks The clumsiness…
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Walking, snow falling, it is possible to focus at various distances in turn on separate flakes, sharply engage the attention at several spatial points: the nearer cold and more uncomfortable, the farther distanced and almost pleasing. Living, time passing, it is preferable to focus the memory in turn upon the more distant retrospects in order…
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O Lord, Let It Rain Drench the Desert dunes Let the green grass sprout If only my sweet beloved would return My city’s desolate without him Let him return! Let dark clouds gather Let them thunder and shower May cool winds blow If only my sweet beloved would return I live in just this hope…
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તમે જીવવા માટે શું કરો છો એ જાણવામાં મને રસ નથી મારે જાણવું છે કે તમારા હૃદયમાં ઊંડી કોઈ આરત છે કે કેમ? અને એ ફળીભૂત થવાનું સ્વપ્ન જોવાની હામ છે કે નહિ. તમારી ઉંમરમાં પણ મને રસ નથી. પ્રેમ, સ્વપ્ન અને જીવંત રહેવાના સાહસ ખાતર ગાંડા દેખાવાનું જોખમ તો ખેડી શકો છો ને? મારે…
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So You Want To Be A Writer if it doesn’t come bursting out of you in spite of everything, don’t do it. unless it comes unasked out of your heart and your mind and your mouth and your gut, don’t do it. if you have to sit for hours staring at your computer screen or…
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हलकी नीली यादें ओ विस्मृति के पहाड़ों में निर्वासित मेरे लोगो ! ओ मेरे रत्नों और जवाहरातो ! क्यों ख़ामोशी के कीचड़ में सोए हुए हो तुम ? ओ मेरे आवाम ! गुम हो चुकी हैं तुम्हारी यादें तुम्हारी हलकी नीली, वो आसमानी यादें । हमारे दिमागों में गाद भर चुकी है और विस्मरण के…
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RIVERS This mutilated tree gives Me support, left in this pot-hole It has the bitterness of a circus Before or after the show. I watch The quiet passage of Clouds over the moon. This morning I stretched Myself in an urn of water, Like a relic, and rested. The Isonzo scoured Me like One of…
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हमारे ऊपर एक बार फिर जलती हैं कपोल-कथाएँ हवा के पहले झोंके में ही झर जाएँगी पत्तियों के साथ किन्तु अगली साँस के साथ वापस लौट आएगी एक नई झिलमिलाहट – उंगारेत्ती (8 फ़रवरी 1888- 2 जून 1970) अँग्रेज़ी से अनुवाद : सुरेश सलिल ……………….. Stars They come back high to burn the tales. They…
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Every Song Every song is the remains of love. Every light the remains of time. A knot of time. And every sigh the remains of a cry. Federico García Lorca Translated by A. S. Kline © Copyright 2007 All Rights Reserved ……………….. हर गीत चुप्पी है प्रेम की हर तारा चुप्पी है समय की समय…
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My Two Daughters In the cool dusk, enchanting evening drawing on, One like the dove, the other like the swan, Lovely, and joyful both of them, and, ah, so sweet, Big sister and little sister make their seat, Look, at the threshold of the garden; over them, A spray of white carnations, long, fragile of…
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What Survives Who says that all must vanish? Who knows, perhaps the flight of the bird you wound remains, and perhaps flowers survive caresses in us, in their ground. It isn’t the gesture that lasts, but it dresses you again in gold armor- from breast to knees- and the battle was so pure an Angel…
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Song of the Universal Come said the Muse, Sing me a song no poet has chanted, Sing me the universal. In this broad earth of ours, Amid the measureless grossness and the slag, Enclosed and safe within its central heart, Nestles the seed perfection. By every life a share or more or less, None born…
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The Journey One day you finally knew what you had to do, and began, though the voices around you kept shouting their bad advice— though the whole house began to tremble and you felt the old tug at your ankles. “Mend my life!” each voice cried. But you didn’t stop. You knew what you had…
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After crossing fifty I have come to realize… Dreams are What we live every day And not something that we will achieve someday in the future. There is no timeline for happiness, It surprises you when you’re expecting it the least Same is true for success. Love, I no longer chase you I feel your…
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