Poems
Book
As I read and read these books
the pages grew apace
the book seems endless
the moment I stop reading
the book is out
The Seizure
I waited
You came
with a pot of toddy
and
a jack pulp dripping honey
Giving me
toddy
and honey
You seized
my atma
With no time
to think about
my lost atma
I dissolved myself
wholly in toddy and honey
And I don’t know
whether I will get back the atma
if I searched for it
when the toddy becomes bitter
and the honey sour
Fire
The fulgent tongue
of fire
hisses
as streams of water
struggle to stifle it;
the fire glows
with defiance and fury-
the dancing death of
fire
Translated by R.K.Murthi
The Pit
In the darkness
of the pit
the snake
roused
by the charmer’s lute
Spreads its hood
and dances……..
On and on and on………
Till it curls
and winds
and breaks the bones
and spits poison……..
Lo, there is
priceless gem in it
Translated by R.K.Murthi
The Ethereal Voice
You have missed
the last bus;
You dare not
go on foot;
On the long midnight
when there is not
enough light
even to cast a shadow
when you wait there
wide awake
I shall have you
quick enough
Translated by Nakulan
The Walkout
A temple-
Customary daily worship given up;
Its corridors empty of a trace of human being;
Its gardens where now roam bandicoots
The tower bat-infested
The God
had walked out
and the living skeleton
knew not to stop him
Translated by Ashoka Mitran
Thorn
Pick a thorn
with another thorn
While trying to do so
one thorn pricked the other
And in a flash
blood gushed
forth from the flesh
Translated by Ma.Dakshinamurthi
Bonds
The tongue
imprisoned
In the mouth
The red lips
Closing in
On the bouquet
Translated by R.K.Murthi
Sleep
in the mother’s womb
in her breast’s warmth
in the cloth cradle
in the creaking crib
in father’s embrace
on the kora-grass-mat
on the cane-spun-couch
in the sensuous
rapture of the
opposite sex
on the velvet mattress
at children’s touch
on the bare earth
on the green-bamboo-bier
held shoulder-high
by
F O
U R
men
on the dried dung-cake
at the burning ghat
in the liberating fire
in the six foot earth
in the ethereal plain Translated by M.S.Ramaswamy
The Door
From birth
till now
(I have)
cried with grief
rocked with pain
swelled with joy
festered with hate
mellowed with love
flustered with rage
melted with devotion
swayed with jealousy
and kept on
knocking…..
but the door
is yet to open
Translated by R.K.Murthi
Chariot Road
Additions
those with me;
those away from me
are subtractions.
As the journey of life
continues
the mournful song
of the Krauncha bird
as it cries out its heart
at parting
fluttering its wings;
The wounds of heart
caused by
the arrows of hate
as I plough my inner self
pell-mell
drops of blood
get scattered
It is a battlefield
The universe is shaken
It is a joyous dance
arrogance
envy
rage
frustration
the thirst for fame
their sharp points
get blunted,
are thrown off
illumination
that dispels
the darkness of ignorance
athwart the eight directions
trills along
the lord of the sky
the sun
that drives
the chariot of time
which day after day
runs fast
along the way
that is the way
Induction
Busy road side of a bazaar
A heavy traffic
Wave after after wave of pedestraians
He moves with a feeling of loneliness
Just in front ,an unknown man
Whose footsteps are not steady,
Moves like a catamaran in the rough sea
Clashing with others
‘may be a drunkard’
‘a drug addict’
‘he is going to fall under a vehicle and die’
-comments by the people walking along
why does he punish himself
and destroy his life given by god?
While pitying him in the mind
What a surprise
A feeling of giddiness
The whole bazaar is turning round
A vomiting sensation
To make himself steady
And to avoid falling down
when catching hold of a nearby lamp post
the mind tortures itself
by suppressing the body’s uneasiness:
‘people may misunderstand
connecting me with the man in front
and regard me also as
another drunkard
as another drug addict ‘
Present
In youth
full of dreams
of the future
Mind rummated
the past
in old age
Present is not
the present
Again And Again
Reading and rereading
to forget ?
Forgetting and forgetting
to read ?
Contradictions
Doors are opened
Not so the mind
Smiling faces
But the mind?
Flowers that blossomed
But no odour
Eyes are opened
No beat in pulse
Cow
Looks like a cow
When it becomes furious
as a tiger
to butt sharp horns
and to kick hard hooves
appear mysteriously
Song Sung In Silence
Wherever one turns,
One hears about wars
war cries, challenges,
suicide squads,
murders, massacres
threats, dropping of bombshells
clashes, calls for war;
Good souls living
both at home away from it
rendering service even to the evil,
they are here to do good;
they aware
they are looking like
frightened Ashram fawns.
Like a bolt from the blue,
there is an island,
surrounded by salt water,
among the islands,
one hears sweet music
along with the roar of waves;
pollution free atmosphere
salt wind sings paeans of praise
of the island’s cleanliness;
There is heard the song of cuckoo
sea water is like a mirror .
There one feels
human love, and warmth.
They have not yet been completely destroyed.
Will we destroy it?
The song of cuckoo is heard
like the song of flute.
In the island
fearless mermaids,
sing in silence,
moved by the beauty’s intoxication.
Their songs are the echoes of human souls.
Translated by K.Gunasekaran
Check Posts
No place of birth
no language
that may be said
to be your mother-tongue
no style of life
that you may say
is yours
no region
claims you,
and the check Post
despoils the charm
of your native place
in silence
you writhe and shrink
in to your own self
you writhe in self pity
in the tomb of yourself
you bear
the cross that is
but your own self
and in this great renunciation
you wander on
without any
place of refuge
such a sinner
you are.
Microscope
We view this world
and society
through the microscope
and we feel elated
but when we turn the
microscope and view ourselves
then all our joyousness
comes to a close
the mind is restless
our rage and
excitement cool down
Even then
the shame of it all
is not there
why?
Prayer
Stop singing
when the voice is good
Before the finger is swollen
sell the veena
Untie the anklet
before its bells
get scattered
Before I get bed-ridden
place me on the bier.