Woman with Eyes Wide Open life plays in the plaza with the self I never was and here I am my thoughts dance on the tightrope of my smile and everyone says this happened and is happening happening my heart opens the window life here I am my life my lone numbed blood resonates in…
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The Snail sets . what it knows of this . inelegant world, outside . and quietly folds . …
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A Prayer at the Bridge between the Centuries War is consigned to history Disaster to memory The scars and tears form a natural screen In a drizzle A rainbow appears like a bridge between the centuries At the end and the beginning of time Separating past and future Now it is Dusk at century’s end…
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“Tell me, what else should I have done?” – (This line is from a poem by Mary Oliver). “Tell me, what else should I have done?” Not come that day? Phone up and say ‘I am not well?’ And lie – not speak my truth that way? But I did come! . . . Though feeling…
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MUSIC Let me go where’er I will,I hear a sky-born music still:It sounds from all things old,It sounds from all things young,From all that’s fair, from all that’s foul,Peals out a cheerful song. It is not only in the rose,It is not only in the bird,Not only where the rainbow glows,Nor in the song of…
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Middle Class Blues We can’t complain.We’re not out of work.We don’t go hungry.We eat.The grass grows,the social product,the fingernail,the past.The streets are empty.The deals are closed.The sirens are silent.All that will pass.The dead have made their wills.The rain’s become a drizzle.The war’s not yet been declared.There’s no hurry for that.We eat the grass.We eat the…
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Everything Is Going To Be All Right How should I not be glad to contemplate the clouds clearing beyond the dormer window and a high tide reflected on the ceiling? There will be dying, there will be dying, but there is no need to go into that. The lines flow from the hand unbidden and…
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A Song For Those Who Know Something must be done right awaythat much we knowbut of course it’s too soon to actbut of course it’s too late in the dayoh we knowwe know that we’re really rather well offand that we’ll go on like thisand that it’s not much use anywayoh we knowwe know that…
Read Moreતમારા સૌનો ખૂૂબ ખૂબ આભાર, આ સફરમાં સાથે રહેવા માટે. વિઝીટ, વ્યૂ, લાઈક, કમેન્ટ…બધ્ધું જ આવકાર્ય છે, અહીં આવતા રહેજો, લખતા રહેજો. 🙂 ❤ હું જે વાંચું છું, ઑનલાઈન, પુસ્તકોમાં, બીજા બ્લૉગ્સ પર એ બધું મારા મનમાં જાતજાતની અસર ઊભી કરે છે અને કોઈ નવા જ સ્વરૂપે મારા હ્રદયમાંથી ઉદભવે છે. આ બ્લૉગ એ બધી…
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Wind-Up Doll Even more, oh yes,one can remain silent even more. Inside eternal hoursone can fix lifeless eyeson the smoke of a cigarette,on a cup’s form,the carpet’s faded flowers,or on imaginary writings on the wall. With stiff claws one can whisk the curtains aside, look outside. It’s streaming rain. A child with a balloon bouquet cowers beneath a canopy.…
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I am hereIn me, sometimes.I speakmyself, sometimes.I see in the mirrorMy face, sometimes.I walk on the grassOf this planet, sometimes.I breath – in this earthIn my dreams, sometimes.I float I flyI rainI sprout I growI fallLike a star, sometimes.I come I goI touch the shores of life,Sometimes.The words that I write I singI read I…
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I Will Greet The Sun Again I am sending-my warmest greetings to the sun,and to the tender rivers that streamed in my veins,and to the raining clouds that forever carried- my endless dreams-to the other side. Also,my greetings go-to the poplar trees in the yard-and their sore but graceful aging-under the comes and goes of…
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How you lost yourself Hey, you.yes you.Wake up! Where have you been, all this while?Staring away at screens, your conscience turning fragileDo you even remember the last time whensomeone looked into your eyes and gave you a genuine, warm smile?Amidst the endless shooting colors and the lightpixels flashing from the device you hold so tightyou’re…
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The Passionate Sword Temper my spirit, oh Lord, Burn out its alloy, And make it a pliant steel for thy wielding, Not a clumsy toy, A blunt, iron thing in my hands That blunder and destroy. Temper my spirit, oh Lord, Keep it long in the fire; Make it one with the flame. Let it share That up-reaching desire. Grasp it thyself, oh…
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On the Passage of Days Events follow events In close succession Time is A heavily knotted string, Swift and dangerous, It moves, hurting me And scarring my grand Memories for the future. Events follow events In close succession. They are Pebbles on the sea shore, Driven to and fro, Roaring and grating And tearing the…
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Parable Some fishermen pulled a bottle from the deep. It held a piece of paper, with these words: “Somebody save me! I’m here. The ocean cast me on this desert island. I am standing on the shore waiting for help. Hurry! I’m here!”“There’s no date. I bet it’s already too late anyway. It could have…
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Back from a Walk Murdered by the sky.Among the forms that move toward the snakeand the forms searching for crystalI will let my hair grow.With the limbless tree that cannot singand the boy with the white egg face.With the broken-headed animalsand the ragged water of dry feet. With all that is tired, deaf-mute,and a butterfly…
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Over the angular lily that adorns the cadaverous pillow; over the hardened bachelor pain of lying like a beardless congregationist while the cats erect their clamour and forge a bristling race; over the hunger never sated of the lime that wears light minds away and the professional disenchantment with which courtesans spring out of bed;…
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When It Is Given You to Find a Smile When It Is Given You to Find a Smile in the tenuous drop of moisture by the porous stone distilled, in the mist, in the sun, in the bird and in the wind; when nothing to your eyes remains inert, or formless, or colourless, or remote,…
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A Fool For Evergreen A little bit of fool in meHides behind my inmost treeAnd pops into the narrow pathI walk blindfolded by my wrathOr shrunken by some twist of pain,Some hope that will not wind again.He ogles with his antic eyesand somersaults a you’re-not-wiseUntil the patches in his pantsGo colorwheeling through my glanceSo fast…
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Early Spring Once more the Heavenly PowerMakes all things new,And domes the red-plowed hillsWith loving blue;The blackbirds have their wills,The throstles too. Opens a door in Heaven;From skies of glassA Jacob’s ladder fallsOn greening grass,And o’er the mountain-wallsYoung angels pass. Before them fleets the shower,And burst the buds,And shine the level lands,And flash the floods;The…
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Anushka, she is a medical student and young, upcoming poet. There is depth, sensitivity and philosophical undertones in her expressions. There is innocence and honesty in her writings.I wish her continuing journey on creative path and success in her future endeavours. Blue and Green One gloomy day I took To cleaning up my room. I…
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Jasmines Your scent is in the room. Swiftly it overwhelms and conquers me! Jasmines, night jasmines, perfect of perfume, Heavy with dew before the dawn of day! Your face was in the mirror. I could see You smile and vanish suddenly away, Leaving behind the vestige of a tear. Sad suffering face, from parting grown…
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Poet As Fisherman I fish for words to say what I fish for, half-catch sometimes. I have caught little pan fish flashing sunlight (yellow perch, crappies, blue-gills), lighthearted reeled them in, filed them on stringers on the shore. A nice mess, we called them, and ate with our fingers, laughing. Once, dreaming of fish in…
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Enslaved Oh when I think of my long-suffering race, For weary centuries despised, oppressed, Enslaved and lynched, denied a human place In the great life line of the Christian West; And in the Black Land disinherited, Robbed in the ancient country of its birth, My heart grows sick with hate, becomes as lead, For this…
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I Live, I Die, I Burn, I Drown I live, I die, I burn, I drown I endure at once chill and cold Life is at once too soft and too hard I have sore troubles mingled with joys Suddenly I laugh and at the same time cry And in pleasure many a grief endure…
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When You Are Old When you are old and grey and full of sleep, And nodding by the fire, take down this book, And slowly read, and dream of the soft look Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep; How many loved your moments of glad grace, And loved your beauty with love…
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Come thou, thou last one, whom I recognize, unbearable pain throughout this body’s fabric: as I in my spirit burned, see, I now burn in thee: the wood that long resisted the advancing flames which thou kept flaring, I now am nourishinig and burn in thee. My gentle and mild being through thy ruthless fury…
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Asleep and awake Asleep and awake, I wake. Never having written What I have to say. No poem offers of me My central meaning, I have danced to my naming And danced away. Now I move past my dreams: They yield processions of Changing images. I want to speak the clear The intricate meeting-place Of…
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Here is a poem, written by my daughter for a competition. I would like to share it with you all. Hope you enjoy it like I did. … * … * … What would be the best poem ever written, you might ask For such a thing as competitions exist For an overthinker like me,…
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A Moment Of Happiness A moment of happiness, you and I sitting on the verandah, apparently two, but one in soul, you and I. We feel the flowing water of life here, you and I, with the garden’s beauty and the birds singing. The stars will be watching us, and we will show them what…
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Tonight No Poetry Will Serve Saw you walking barefoot taking a long look at the new moon’s eyelid later spread sleep-fallen, naked in your dark hair asleep but not oblivious of the unslept unsleeping elsewhere Tonight I think no poetry will serve Syntax of rendition: verb pilots the plane adverb modifies action verb force-feeds noun…
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The Tule Fog Just as the sun rises and disappearsBehind the tall city landmarksThey live and hide, out in the openIn this provincial city of San Francisco.No, they do not own homesBut they claim the streets of this cityJust as the tule fog settles low to the ground. Some days you only get to…
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Still I Rise You may write me down in history With your bitter, twisted lies, You may trod me in the very dirt But still, like dust, I’ll rise. Does my sassiness upset you? Why are you beset with gloom? ’Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells Pumping in my living room. Just like…
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Like winds of seas, you toss the shutters, Like winds of deserts, you sing: ‘Behold! You’re mine forever! I’m ancient Clutter, Your old, good fellow, – unlock your hold!’ I dare not open, I hold the shutters, I hold the shutters and hide my fright. I keep and cherish, I keep with flutter My love…
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THE GRASS IS REALLY LIKE ME The grass is also like me it has to unfurl underfoot to fulfill itself but what does its wetness manifest: a scorching sense of shame or the heat of emotion? The grass is also like me As soon as it can raise its head the lawnmower obsessed with flattening…
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We Wear the Mask We wear the mask that grins and lies, It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes,— This debt we pay to human guile; With torn and bleeding hearts we smile, And mouth with myriad subtleties. Why should the world be over-wise, In counting all our tears and sighs? Nay, let them…
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– Paul Éluard Born: 14 December 1895, Saint-Denis, France Died: 18 November 1952, Charenton-le-Pont, France (The British Royal Air Force dropped copies of his poem “Liberté” into Europe as part of its anti-Nazi propaganda campaign, and other poems were broadcast clandestinely on pro-Allies radio stations. source: poetryfoundation.org) …………………………………………… Liberté On my school notebooks On my…
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A poem slumbers in my heart, at the centre of my being, and a dim mirror tries to shape it a ghazal a line a word. Day and night it pulls me toward itself, no music, no sound, even silence seems to intrude. What poem is this that sleeps in me and does not let…
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“Poetry,” she explained, “is my understanding of the universe, my way of relating to things, my participation in reality, my encounter with voices and images. This is why the poem speaks not of an ideal life but of a concrete one: the angle of a window, the resonance of streets, cities and rooms, the shadow…
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Sophia de Mello Poem translated by Ana Silva, original poem by Sophia de Mello Breyner Andresen. Do read the beautiful original poem below. Commentary One of the most compelling elements of Sophia’s poetry is her belief in the power of the four primordial elements – air, fire, earth…
Autumn Landscape Drop by drop rain slaps the banana leaves. Praise whoever sketched this desolate scene: the lush, dark canopies of the gnarled trees, the long river, sliding smooth and white. I lift my wine flask, drunk with rivers and hills. My backpack, breathing moonlight, sags with poems. Look, and love everyone. Whoever sees this…
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The Sparrow A little bird, with plumage brown, Beside my window flutters down, A moment chirps its little strain, Ten taps upon my windowpane, And chirps again, and hops along, To call my notice to its song; But I work on, nor heed its lay, Till, in neglect, it flies away. So birds of peace…
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Thou Art My Lute Thou art my lute, by thee I sing,— My being is attuned to thee. Thou settest all my words a-wing, And meltest me to melody. Thou art my life, by thee I live, From thee proceed the joys I know; Sweetheart, thy hand has power to give The meed of love—the…
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Lovely And Lifelike A face at the end of the day A cradle in day’s dead leaves A bouquet of naked rain Every ray of sun hidden Every fount of founts in the depths of the water Every mirror of mirrors broken A face in the scales of silence A pebble among other pebbles For…
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I Only Wish To Love You I only wish to love you A storm fills the valley A fish the river I have made you the size of my solitude The whole world to hide in Days and nights to understand To see no more in your eyes Than what I think of you And…
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Before I go I’m supposed to get a last wish: Generous reader burn this book It’s not at all what I wanted to say Though it was written in blood It’s not what I wanted to say. No lot could be sadder than mine I was defeated by my own shadow: My words took vengeance…
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Merry Christmas to all of you! What I love about Christmas is a wonderful feeling of festivities and cheer in the air, the joy of giving, the Happiness of being together. The joys of sharing, caring and celebrating little things of holiday season, gives us hope to continue, rejunuvates us for the coming New Year.…
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I loved you; and perhaps I love you still, The flame, perhaps, is not extinguished; yet It burns so quietly within my soul, No longer should you feel distressed by it. Silently and hopelessly I loved you, At times too jealous and at times too shy. God grant you find another who will love you…
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Poetry is a mirror to our day to day life, we all know. As a part of the ongoing 5th birthday celebration I have been sharing poems on five basic emotions we all feel frequently; pain, love, and joy/happiness; I have already posted in the last 15 days. Today I am sharing a poem on…
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The world is so full of a number of things, I’m sure we should all be as happy as kings. – Robert Louis Stevenson ……….. ખુશી, સુખ, આનંદ…કાંઈ કેટલાય નામ આપો, ખરીદી નથી શકાતું. આખી દુનિયા એને શોધે છે. કોઈ પદ-પ્રતિષ્ઠામાં, કોઈ ધન-સંપત્તિમાં, કોઈ યુવાનીમાં, કોઈ ધર્મ-સંપ્રદાયની પ્રવૃત્તિઓમાં, કોઈ સંતાનોની પ્રગતિમાં તો સભા-મેળાવડાઓની વાહવાહીમાં. પણ…
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દુઃખ, પીડા પછી બીજી સર્વવ્યાપી લાગણી છે… પ્રેમની. પ્રેમ જ સમગ્ર સૃષ્ટિની રચનાનો પાયો છે. સૃષ્ટિના ઉદ્ભવમાં આ અગમ્ય, અદમ્ય ખેંચાણ રહેલું છે. એકકોષી જીવથી અનેક-કોષી જીવ બનવાની ઘટનામાં પણ આ સર્જક બળ રહેલું છે. પ્રેમ કરનાર અને પામનાર બંને એક અદ્ ભૂત સર્જનનું કારણ, એક અનન્ય સર્જનના ભાગ બને છે પ્રેમમાં સંપૂર્ણ સમર્પણ કર્યા…
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My dear readers, As part of ongoing celebrations on completing five years, I posted poems written by famous writers of three different languages which were read by all of you in maximum numbers. Now for the second part of celebrations, I am posting poems written by me in all three languages (Gujarati, English, Hindi). Though…
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Completing my formative years here! It’s still unbelievable when I look at the number! I pinch my self, is it true? really? I want to thank you all for providing a continuous flow of views, likes, love, support, follow, comments,… making my journey a wonderful experience. Please let me know what do you think about…
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The Last Toast Whether we like it or not, We have only three choices: Yesterday, today and tomorrow. And not even three Because as the philosopher says Yesterday is yesterday It belongs to us only in memory: From the rose already plucked No more petals can be drawn. The cards to play Are only two:…
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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 dreams. I meet…
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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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When Death Comes When death comes like the hungry bear in autumn; when death comes and takes all the bright coins from his purse to buy me, and snaps the purse shut; when death comes like the measle-pox; when death comes like an iceberg between the shoulder blades, I want to step through the door…
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Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep I am Not there. I do not sleep. I am a thousands winds that blow. I am the diamond glints on snow. I am the sunlight on ripened grain. I am the gentle autumn rain. When you awaken in…
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keeping a day ahead when space occupied by those preceding still reeks of waste is deemed vagrancy and planning non-events because your life depends on it does not explain why no demand exists in any case living in expectancy of a life-changing phone-call doesn’t bring order to the chaos surrounding you, so unleash suspense, be…
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Woodcutter. Cut out my shadow. Free me from the torture of seeing myself fruitless. Why was I born among mirrors? The daylight revolves around me. And the night herself repeats me in all her constellations. I want to live not seeing self. I shall dream the husks and insects change inside my dreaming into my…
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The Idler An idle lingerer on the wayside’s road, He gathers up his work and yawns away; A little longer, ere the tiresome load Shall be reduced to ashes or to clay. No matter if the world has marched along, And scorned his slowness as it quickly passed; No matter, if amid the busy throng,…
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A Man In His Life A man doesn’t have time in his life to have time for everything. He doesn’t have seasons enough to have a season for every purpose. Ecclesiastes Was wrong about that. A man needs to love and to hate at the same moment, to laugh and cry with the same eyes,…
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Open the window, and let the air Freshly blow upon face and hair, And fill the room, as it fills the night, With the breath of the rain’s sweet might. Hark! the burthen, swift and prone! And how the odorous limes are blown! Stormy Love’s abroad, and keeps Hopeful coil for gentle sleeps. Not a…
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Tools for life Has life ever dumped you in a heap? Perhaps you’ve found self belief so strongly reinforcing that doubt never enters it, nor divorces you from your own reality. While I admire conviction I see it an affliction of the blessed, sign of the righteously possessed and indeed, a decent place to serve…
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‘Green Rain’ I remember long veils of green rain Feathered like the shawl of my grandmother – Green from the half-green of the spring trees Waving in the valley. I remember the road Like the one which leads to my grandmother’s house, A warm house, with green carpets, Geraniums, a trilling canary And shining horse-hair…
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I am a child and free I have no place or dwelling how vast the sky is when the whole world is a poem it’s broad daylight on earth night has not yet been created I have a foothold in all of time – Amina Saïd j’eus dix ans le ciel en têtej’empruntai ses ailes…
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Those Bells Are Driving Me Crazy Those bells are driving me crazy How can I sleep? Ten times a day I pine for him I’ll wear the chains of his love Till death Standing at the edge They cry out, ‘My love!’ But they love only their lives Some claim, ‘I’m all yours’ But wet…
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FOR THE NEW YEAR Stamped in the throat bird song biologists say is inevitable as that beak that eye that red wing is not learned is born with the bird. Perhaps then there’s another dimension behind our learned word patterns … perhaps an infinite song sways in our throats yet to be heard? .. ……
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INSOMNIA The province of my Insomnia Is like the expanse of An arid river Quite often I come here barefooted Accepting its call I walk through And collide with The brambles of Old dreams And unsolved truths The entire stretch is Full of prolific roots Impossible to Pull out And the sun, the moon and…
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O, Were I Loved As I Desire To Be! O, were I loved as I desire to be! What is there in the great sphere of the earth, Or range of evil between death and birth, That I should fear, – if I were loved by thee! All the inner, all the outer world of…
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I stumbled across a grain of truth, In the suns last drops of light, As I stood out in my garden, And watched the fruit bats daily flight, They moved as though united, Their flapping wings a silent dance, And as they flew above me, I stood frozen in a trance, Their flight conveyed such…
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Dunya Mikhail was born in Iraq (Baghdad) in 1965 and came to the United States thirty years later. She’s renowned for her subversive, innovative, and satirical poetry. After graduation from the University of Baghdad, she worked as a journalist and translator for the Baghdad Observer. Facing censorship and interrogation, she left Iraq, first to Jordan…
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बग़दाद के अपने बग़ीचे में मैं अक्सर भागा करता था उसके पीछे मगर वह उड़कर दूर चली जाती थी हमेश। आज तीन दशकों बाद एक दूसरे महाद्वीप में वह आकर बैठ गई मेरे कन्धे पर। नीली समन्दर के ख़यालों या आख़िरी साँसें लेती किसी परी के आँसुओं की तर॥ उसके पर स्वर्ग से गिरती दो…
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What is our innocence, what is our guilt? All are naked, none is safe. And whence is courage: the unanswered question, the resolute doubt, — dumbly calling, deafly listening—that in misfortune, even death, encourage others and in its defeat, stirs the soul to be strong? He sees deep and is glad, who accedes to mortality…
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Where the Sidewalk Ends There is a place where the sidewalk ends And before the street begins, And there the grass grows soft and white, And there the sun burns crimson bright, And there the moon-bird rests from his flight To cool in the peppermint wind. Let us leave this place where the smoke blows…
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Do not give me only perfect For there is beauty in what lacks, The things that are most true Are filled with flaws, covered in cracks. So stumble on your sentences, Forget the words you need, To those parading as perfection I must say; pay them no heed. For it is you and your surroundings,…
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દસ વરસની ગણતરીઓ અને મથામણ પછી મારી પાસે છે ત્રણ ઓરડાવાળું ખોરડું એક ઓરડો મારો, ઉજ્જવળ ચન્દ્રનો બીજો ને ત્રીજો, સ્વચ્છ પવનનો. નદીઓ અને પર્વતો માટે તો જગા જ રહી નથી. એમને તો મારે બહાર જ રાખવાં પડશે. મારા નિસાસા બની જાય પવન ને મારાં આંસુઓ, છાંટણાં વર્ષાનાં જે ફૂંકાય ને છંટાય, મારી મરજી મુજબ…
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I remember you as you were that final autumn. You were a gray beret and the whole being at peace. In your eyes the fires of the evening dusk were battling, and the leaves were falling in the waters of your soul. As attached to my arms as a morning glory, Your sad, slow voice…
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Now I out walking The world desert, And my shoe and my stocking Do me no hurt. I leave behind Good friends in town, Let them get well-wined And go lie down. Don’t think I leave For the outer dark Like Adam and Eve Put out of the Park. Forget the myth. There is no…
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The wind is blowing no more The fallen leaves are resting After landing now They’re making a crunchy sound as I walk on them The naked tree is coming to terms With its bare-all look. No longer trying to hide from the nearby bench exchanging glances with the flowing creek The trail is blazing bright…
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What though thy bed be frozen earth, Thy cloak the chilling blast; What though no mate to cheer thy path, Thy sky with gloom o’ercast- What though if love itself doth fail, Thy fragrance strewed in vain; What though if bad o’er good prevail’ And vice o’er virtue reign- Change not thy nature, gentle bloom,…
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Informational Decay I heard an echo in a hollow place. No sound of blowing wind or drifting sand, some ancient voice was this, a captive trace of gone-by speech, of argument, demand, of plea or question, comfort or command. Long years this message had remained unheard in empty halls, in untenanted lands, a letter lost,…
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After Great Pain After great pain a formal feeling comes- The Nerves sit ceremonious like Tombs; The stiff heart questions- was it He that bore And Yesterday- or Centuries before? The Feet, mechanical, go round A Wooden way Of Ground, or Air, or Ought, Regardless grown, A Quartz contentment, like a stone. This is the…
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Eternity The sun habitually cajoles men with red lollipops. Day is mother’s lap–in her colourfully printed sari one hides the face and rests. The whole day we keep hiding behind things but the night. A Jewish poet of Manhattan had said in my presence once “I love you, but I don’t like you.” When I…
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I Want to Write I want to write I want to write the songs of my people. I want to hear them singing melodies in the dark. I want to catch the last floating strains from their sob-torn throats. I want to frame their dreams into words; their souls into notes. I want to catch…
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The Meaning of Simplicity I hide myself behind simple objects so you may find me, If you do not find me, you will find the objects, you will touch those objects my hand has touched the traces of our hands will mingle The August moon gleams like a tin kitchen kettle (what I am…
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Canticle VI You have a fear: End. You do not see that you end up all day. That you die in love. In sadness. In doubt. In the desire. That renews all day. In love. In sadness. In doubt. In the desire. That you are always another. That you are always the same. That you…
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RUMI AND THE REED Listen to the song of the reed flute: It sings of separation. Torn from the leaf-layered, wind-voiced Banks of the pond, It is joined to sorrow and joy By a slender sound. Who, asked Rumi, can understand The reed’s longing to return? Let its raw lips rest then; Let all words…
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પ્રયોજન ક્ષણનું આ અસ્તિત્વ છે એથી તો હું ગીત ગાઉં છું ને આ મારી પૂર્ણ જિંદગી નહીં સુખી: નહીં દુખી. નિરામય હવા રમે છે શ્વાસ. હું કવિ મારો હોય કાવ્યમાં વાસ. પળપળ સરતા સકલની સહ મારે લોહીની સગાઈ; નહીં આનંદ: નહીં વ્યથા: નહીં કથા: નહીં તથા: નહીં કાંઈ. રાતદિવસ હું મુક્ત હવામાં મ્હાલું. નાશ પામું…
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WITH A LANTERN OF HOPE Drifted in by tidal waves with hugs of attachment on the shore of the North Sea a poem from Burma washed up. No sun, no moon, can be seen on the Norwegian beach. Wearing the robe of mist going up the Scandinavian mountain with a shaken, broken voice singing a…
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She opened the shutters, She hung the sheets over the sill. She saw the day. A bird looked at her straight in the eyes. ‘I am alone,’ she whispered. ‘I am alive.’ She entered the room. The mirror too is a window. If I jump from it I will fall in my arms. – Yannis…
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The Just A man who, as Voltaire wished, cultivates his garden. He who is grateful that music exists on earth. He who discovers an etymology with pleasure. A pair in a Southern café, enjoying a silent game of chess. The potter meditating on colour and form. The typographer who set this, though perhaps not pleased.…
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The First Jasmines Ah, these jasmines, these white jasmines! I seem to remember the first day when I filled my hands with these jasmines, these white jasmines. I have loved the sunlight, the sky and the green earth; I have heard the liquid murmur of the river through the darkness of midnight; Autumn sunsets have…
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आह को चाहिए इक उम्र असर होते तक कौन जीता है तिरी ज़ुल्फ़ के सर होते तक (A prayer needs a lifetime, an answer to obtain who can live until the time that you decide to deign) दाम-ए-हर-मौज में है हल्क़ा-ए-सद-काम-ए-नहंग देखें क्या गुज़रे है क़तरे पे गुहर होते तक (snares are spread in every…
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Alleyway (Mi chiama talvolta la tua voce) Sometimes your voice calls to me, and I do not know what skies or waters you wake me to: a net of sunlight that glazes your walls that at evening were a swaying of late lanterns in the workshops filled with the breeze and sadness. At other times:…
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The Art Of Poetry To gaze at a river made of time and water And remember Time is another river. To know we stray like a river and our faces vanish like water. To feel that waking is another dream that dreams of not dreaming and that the death we fear in our bones is…
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Testament So often it has been displayed to us, the hourglass with its grains of sand drifting down, not as an object in our world but as a sign, a symbol, our lives drifting down grain by grain, sifting away — I’m sure everyone must see this emblem somewhere in the mind. Yet not only…
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Dreams Hold fast to dreams For if dreams die Life is a broken-winged bird That cannot fly. Hold fast to dreams For when dreams go Life is a barren field Frozen with snow. … … … … Helen Keller She, In the dark, Found light Brighter than many ever see. She, Within herself, Found loveliness,…
Read MoreNegro Speaks Of Rivers I’ve known rivers: I’ve known rivers ancient as the world and older than the flow of human blood in human veins My soul has grown deep like the rivers. I bathed in the Euphrates when dawns were young I built my hut near the Congo and it lulled me to sleep.…
Read MoreThe Birth Of Song (Sorgiva: luce riemersa) Arise: re-emergent light: bright burning leaves. I lie down in brimming rivers where there are islands mirrors of shadows and stars. And your celestial heights overwhelm me, that always nurture my other life with joy. I long to reclaim you, though disillusioned, adolescence with infirm limbs. Salvatore Quasimodo…
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Suddenly It’s Evening (Ognuno sta solo sul cuor della terra) Everyone is alone at the heart of the earth, pierced by a ray of sunshine; and suddenly it’s evening. Salvatore Quasimodo (1901-1968) source: Salvatore Quasimodo selected poems poetsofmodernity.xyz translated by A S Kline * * * * * * * * * અને અચાનક સૂર્યકિરણ-…
Read Moreનિરંજન ભગતને ભાવભીની શ્રધ્ધાંજલિ લડ્યો ન, લડવા સમુંય મુજને ન કોઈ મળ્યું, સદા કુદરતે, કલારસ વિશે જ હૈયું ઢળ્યું, તપ્યો સતત તાપ, હાથ મુજ બેઉ હુંફે ભર્યા, શમ્યો, ઊપડવું, પ્રયાણ અવ પ્રાણ ઝંખે નર્યા. ડબલ્યુ. એસ. લેન્ડોર અનુવાદ નિરંજન ભગત (1926-2018) * * * * * * Dying Speech of an Old Philosopher I strove…
Read MoreHappiness Happiness, to some, elation; Is, to others, mere stagnation. Days of passive somnolence, At its wildest, indolence. Hours of empty quietness, No delight, and no distress. Happiness to me is wine, Effervescent, superfine. Full of tang and fiery pleasure, Far too hot to leave me leisure For a single thought beyond it. Drunk! Forgetful!…
Read MoreDeep in the Stillness He threw me away like a clod of earth. He didn’t know I was a thing with a soul. He didn’t know I was alive. He kept on throwing me like a clod of earth out of his way – onto that neglected path that happened to be mine. And so…
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When I Spoke to the Sky; My journey to love ends in you! He covered me from all over Went into hiding behind a moon, stars, rainbows, clouds,…never showed his real face! When I told the wind; I dreamt of being with you! A robust companion, I see in you. He scattered me all over…
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The way Sun rays travel Through the green fog Creating Luminous pathways Admist The mountains Stream Trees And valleys My sparkling soul Chalks It’s a journey Through This universe In an enchanting Dancing, swirling Lights Twinkling Sprinkling It’s Magic Dust Of smile Love And kindness. Floating Higher Up, among clouds Reaching for the stars And…
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Ecstasy For years it was in sex and I thought this was the most of it so brief a moment or two of transport out of oneself or in music which lasted longer and filled me with the exquisite wrenching agony of the blues and now it is equally transitory and obscure as I sit…
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कैशोर्य के उन दिनों में मैं सुबह की ख़ुशियों से भर जाता था, पर शामों में रुदन ही रुदन था ; अब, जबकि मैं बूढ़ा हूँ हर दिन उगता है शंकाओं से आच्छन्न, तो भी इसकी सन्ध्याएँ पावन हैं, शान्त और प्रसन्न । कालान्तर / फ़्रेडरिक होल्डरलिन अमृता भारती द्वारा अनूदित …………………… Then And Now…
Read MoreGrant me just one summer, powerful ones, And just one autumn for ripe songs, That my heart, filled with that sweet Music, may more willingly die within me. The soul, denied its divine heritage in life, Won’t find rest down in Hades either. But if what is holy to me, the poem That rests in…
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it’s late in the evening. Stars have started to appear. waves are small and scattered. .. still chasing each other to meet ! The sea is a grey reflection of the sky above! why does grey makes us sad , fills our hearts with melancholy! I think grey is more neutral and real in this…
Read MoreSunshine A golden sun shines on floating islands in the cosmos. The rarefied mist has slipped aside. Your face quivers in my palms. The morning cupped in my hands. A soft refulgence courses through my whole being. I have drunk in the drops of light, which had slipped from your radiant soul and suffused your…
Read MoreLife is the name given to a few moments, and In but one of those fleeting moments Two eyes meet eloquently Looking up from a cup of tea, and Enter the heart piercingly And say, Today do not speak I’ll be silent too Let’s just sit thus. Holding each other’s hand United by this gift…
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The First Kiss at Parting Humid seal of soft affections, Tenderest pledge of future bliss, Dearest tie of young connections, Love’s first snowdrop, virgin kiss! Speaking silence, dumb confession, Passion’s birth, and infants’ play, Dove-like fondness, chaste concession, Glowing dawn of future day! Sorrowing joy, adieu’s last action, (Lingering lips must now disjoin); What words…
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A Journey It’s a journey . . . that I propose . . . I am not the guide . . . nor technical assistant . . . I will be your fellow passenger . . . Though the rail has been ridden . . . winter clouds cover . . . autumn’s exuberant quilt…
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Wind is playing piano On this lake. Shadows of the trees are black keys. Shadows of the clouds are white keys. Playing sounds of nature, Song of the season, Birds are accompanying With their continuous chirping. My soul is singing the song of Eternity Harmony Peace On this blissful day! Nehal Poetry and Image ©…
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