"My happiness" [sonnet impromptu 3]
My happiness is speaking to your ear
perhaps I could accept this strange condition
it's not as if there's circumstance for fear
mere poetry's insufficient for perdition
(inshallah) hey conversing is a pleasure
we're anyway adult & intellectual
in poetry the meaning weds the measure
that's why betimes it's seemingly effectual
or is it? take for instance this expression
it says or this or that but where's the motive?
it's laden with impromptu & digression
it's vocative or casual or votive
perhaps I could accept this strange condition
it's not as if there's circumstance for fear
mere poetry's insufficient for perdition
(inshallah) hey conversing is a pleasure
we're anyway adult & intellectual
in poetry the meaning weds the measure
that's why betimes it's seemingly effectual
or is it? take for instance this expression
it says or this or that but where's the motive?
it's laden with impromptu & digression
it's vocative or casual or votive
devotion is a current in the deep
where shallowly I probe the river's sweep
2 Comments:
loved the last two lines... somehow the essence is the same, though the expression is different... in this rough translation of a poem on my blog... which was written for the hottest and coolest of all deities - Shiva...
chabuk ki chumban
the kiss of the whip
sakha tumhari yeh preet
my love (actually male friend),this love of yours...
hai chabuk ki chumban
...is like the kiss of a whip
palash bhavnaaon ke, meet
The "flame of the forest" (palash - has deep red waxy petals and booms in high summer)- the flower of emotions, my love
murjhate hain, chhod gagan
wither when they leave the skies
aagosh hai yeh paash
this embrace is a noose
ghee ke diye ki kaalik
the blacking of a lamp of ghee
sochti hun, kaash
I wish you were not
tum na hote malik…
the ruler
…mere sapnon ke
of my dreams
mere apnon ke…
and those I love
rakt se lathpath
slathered with blood
adharon ka chumban
is the kiss of your lips
tumhare har path
On every path that leads to you
par andhera, sajan
is darkness, my love
phir bhi, aviral behti yeh katha
even so, this story flows fluidly
jeevan ka har pal tumhari vyatha
with your pain in every moment of my life...
ah Ishqa--
I'm reading this early on Christmas Eve morning. "Shiva was Jesus before him" quote the poet [Francis Brabazon in the instance], so what more suitable moment to partake of your Shaivite profundities? My blog has become spangled & deeply stained -- by a poetry larger than I've sustained. Many thanks for showing & translating, and too the imagination to discern hints of this underlying my (different-seeming) lines. What poet would not be happily encouraged by the gesture? Perhaps these laughable sonnets are steps of an ambling needing further steps. If rivers are deep but thoughts are shallow, wading further yet could follow.
merci, d.i.
Post a Comment
<< Home