Image 01

Archive for the ‘Poetry’ Category

The ‘conspirator’ testifies

Wednesday, September 26th, 2012

Honourable Justice!

The Sunrise is not a conspiracy

The Sun is not a conspirator

Are the pregnant woman's labour pains a conspiracy?

What will you call the progress of the chariot of history?

 

Honourable Justice!

The demoniac feudalism that tucks the earth,

Rolled like a mat, into its armpits is a conspiracy

The comprador's treachery

That sells my country to foreign powers is a conspiracy

The peace pact signed

At Kosygin's leprous feet is a conspiracy

There's a plot

In the food that Nixon's ships bring

Indian independence is a conspiracy

The ballot box is a conspiracy

'Garibi hatao' is a conspiracy

Indira's smile is a conspiracy

The arrogance in the half closed eyes of the shastra of injustice,

Lying in ambush to hang the Sun, harbours a conspiracy

Honourable Justice!

The Srikakulam dawn is not a conspiracy

The guerilla Sun is not a conspirator

Isn't Sunrise the tearing down of darkness?

Isn't Sunrise the sharing of warmth and light among the people?

 

Honourable Justice!

You're very..just

In unjust destruction, as just as Yama.

 

My translation of the Telugu poem ''kuTradaaru' vaaj~nmuulam', from the collection of poetry 'Sivasagar Kavitvam', by K. G. Satyamurthy ('Sivasagar').

Written in June 1973, this was the poet's testimony in the court as an accused ('conspirator') in the Parvathipuram Conspiracy case.

Waves

Tuesday, September 25th, 2012

Waves under watch!

Dreams that waves bear under watch!

The soft breeze like sitar music

That shows love for the waves under watch! 

 

The boats

That move on the waves under watch!

The sails of the boats under watch!

The whiteness of the sails of the boats under watch!

 

Waves over the gallows!

Waves behind the bars!

Waves in tears! Waves!

Waves in the jungle! Waves!

The people are the sea! The waves are the squad!

The waves are dear to the sea!

 

A knife to the throat of the waves!

New blood from the waves' wounds!

New blood from the waves' wounds

Under the hooves of the sea pirates' horses!

Pirates driving daggers into the ocean's heart

And drinking its blood! Sea Pirates!

Sons of the clay footed great demon

Bandits who roam freely on all shores! 

 

The waves wept

The great sad sea

The waves raised questions

A great roar filled the sea

The waves moved

A great wind all over the sea

Flames on the tips of the waves

An inferno in the sea

The waves moved

The waves roared

The waves wove circles

They touched shore after shore

They brought down the clay footed great demon

On a desert island.

 

Who can stop the waves?

Who can stop the sea?

Waves as the ocean's labour pains

 

Are poverty's dreams for tomorrow

Waves are the sea's sword

Waves are the sea's pen

Dawn full of waves

 

Waves waves waves

Inside you inside me

Waves

Dreams

That waves bear

Heads

With dreams chopped off 

 

Waves under watch!

Dreams that waves bear under watch!

The soft breeze like sitar music

That shows love for the waves under watch!

 

My translation of the Telugu poem 'alalu', from the collection of poetry 'Sivasagar Kavitvam', by K. G. Satyamurthy ('Sivasagar').

Written in May, 1971.

The poet says:

I recited this poem on the Visakhapatnam beach, standing in front of the roaring sea, in protest against the increased surveillance and harassment of members of 'ViRaSam' ('Viplava Rachayitala Sangham' or 'Revolutionary Writers' Association').'Waves' ('alalu' in Telugu) are the people, revolutionary poets. 'Dreams' ('kalalu' in Telugu) are the symbols of the revolution. 'Soft breeze like sitar music' is the people's revolutionary movementWaves are also revolutionary squads. The 'clay footed great demon' is imperialism. 

Moonlight in the jungle

Saturday, September 22nd, 2012

Moonlight in the jungle

Stood upright

On the summit of the mountain of thought.

 

Now it shines

On the villages and deer

And streams.

 

In the great cold of repression

Wearing the steel armour of ideals

With its finger on the trigger  

It stands guard over unfolding history

All day and night.

 

It teaches people's power

The sword drill 

It cautions

Time.

 

Moonlight in the jungle!

Such beautiful moonlight!

Wearing the uniform of sacrifice

It lowers the clouds to the ground.

 

My translation of the Telugu poem 'aDavilO vennela', from the collection of poetry 'Sivasagar Kavitvam', by K. G. Satyamurthy ('Sivasagar').

The poet says he wrote this poem in 1985, sitting on the top of a hill in Bastar (then in Madhya Pradesh), during a period when he was a part of an Adivasi movement. 

 

 

 

Phoenix

Friday, September 21st, 2012

Two eyes

          Only one vision

Two lips

          Only one silence

Two hands

          Only one form

Two lives

          Only one dream of revolution

I am the ashes

          She is the Phoenix

 

My translation of the Telugu poem 'Phoenix', from the collection of poetry 'Sivasagar Kavitvam', by K. G. Satyamurthy ('Sivasagar'). Written on August 12, 1987.

~~~

Red

The Kondagogus* are red

The hills themselves are red

The martyrdom of the Annas**

On the hills is red

Salutations to them are even redder

 

My translation of the Telugu poem 'erupu', from the collection of poetry 'Sivasagar Kavitvam', by K. G. Satyamurthy ('Sivasagar'). Written in 1983.

*Kondagogu: pronounced konDagOgu; wild hibiscus.

**Anna: elder brother in Telugu. Here it refers to Naxal activists.  

 

Chalapathi Vijayavardhanam

Friday, June 15th, 2012

The gallows

wears a janeu.

It's a pandit

that offers sandhya vandana and chants vedas;

It is 

a lighthouse

in the heart of manu dharma;

It's the venom bearing fang

of the four-headed

Hindu serpent king;

In the shade of its hood

the Hawala-wallahs enact their orgies of greed.

Chalapathi, Vijayavardhanam

struggle in its venomous fangs !

You might disagree

but Sriman Gallows Shastri

has limitless love

only for the untouchables..!

 

My translation of the Telugu poem 'Chalapathi Vijayavardhanam', from the collection of poetry 'Sivasagar Kavitvam', by K. G. Satyamurthy ('Sivasagar').

Gantela Vijayavardhana Rao and Sathuluri Chalapathi Rao were a couple of Dalit convicts who had been sentenced to death by a court in Guntur in 1995. For more details, please read this news story.  

I

Monday, May 14th, 2012

 

am sleeping peacefully

in a sinking boat

I will throw a net

and catch dream-fish.

 

I am a long distance traveller

on hot desert sands

I will kiss

the dates-like beauty of the oasis.

 

I am the moonlight

in Guja-raatri*,

the last breath

in the ruins of the destroyed Babri masjid,

I am the beheaded stalk of grass

in Kargil

 

I am sleeping peacefully

in a sinking boat

I will throw a net

and catch dream-fish;

I am the unheard

moment of silence on 9/11,

I am the Hurricane Isabel

which drowned

America,

I am the gathering wind of resistance

on the Cancun coast,

I am the fragrance

of the waves of tears welling up in the Tigris' eyes

 

I am fire, water

I am one soldier

among the lakhs

fighting in the battlefield

I am the soldier!

I am the battlefield too!

 

am sleeping peacefully

in a sinking boat

I will throw a net

and catch dream-fish.

 

I am sitting

beside the grave, laughing,

I will play on my heartsrtings

the melody of life. 

 

My translation of the Telugu poem 'nEnu' (from the collection of poetry 'Sivasagar kavitvam') by K.G. Satyamurthy (Sivasagar). 

 

*Guja-raatri: a reference to the Gujarat carnage of 2002.

 

I am the Yanadi

Sunday, March 25th, 2012

I put the whole village to sleep

While spending sleepless nights,

I keep guard over the roads leading to the village

While Brahma Jemudus grow in the path of my life.

Who am I? I am human too

I am Yanadi Yenkanna

I swear on my father that I believe in the sun

I have been withering in the sun for ages

I have no shade to turn to;

Hitching the sun to the sky directly on top of my head

to keep watch,  and swearing by the crowbar

I tied a thaali around Lachchi's neck.

I don't know

Whether it is athiesm or animism

But I am the Adi Dalit

Who first excommunicated Brahmanvad.

With Lachchi by my side

I cross streams and ponds

to catch a few fish;

Following the flow of water

I throw baits and catch fish.

But now

I am aiming my spear

at the hearts of those 

whales which swallow the fish,

the rich landlords who swallow our lives.

Hey! I am fumigating your homes

to collect

my dried

drops of sweat. 

 

My translation of G.V. Ratnakar's Telugu poem 'yAnAdOnni' from the anthology of Dalit poetry 'padunekkina pATa'. 

 

*Yanadi: pronounced 'yAnAdi'; the Yanadis are an extremely marginalised, pre-dravidian, tribal community who live in Nellore and Chittoor districts of Andhra Pradesh, mostly. Traditionally, their chief occupations have been hunting, gathering, fishing etc. Though many of them are now engaged in jobs involving manual labour, a section of them still lead a semi-nomadic existence.

* Brahma Jemudu: a kind of cactus.

* Thaali: pronounced 'taali';  the mangalsutra.

Immortality

Monday, March 12th, 2012

 

The seed, dying,

promised the crop

 

The little flower, withering,

promised the fruit, with a smile,

 

The forest, burning,

promised the conflagration

 

The sunset, shaking hands,

promised the sunrise

 

Immortality is beautiful.

 

Embracing time, it

promised a new world.

 

My translation of the Telugu poem 'amaratvam' by K.G. Satyamurthy ('Sivasagar'), from his collection of poetry 'Sivasagar Kavitvam'.   

Dalita Naaniis

Saturday, March 10th, 2012

Gujarat

is an experiment

to see if a state would grow

when you sow blood

~~~

 

I've always kept

my heart's doors open

for Dalits

among Brahmins

~~~

 

Ahimsa

sounded like an atomic explosion:

why wouldn't

the Buddha smile?

~~~

 

Under the tree

beside the road, near the ghat

god's everywhere

except in the heart

~~~

 

Ravana

is not a rakshasa

He's a lover

who kisses ten times at once

~~~

 

Dalits

are a little lucky

there's no Drona

in Ambedkar's story

 

My translation of some of Netala Pratap Kumar's Telugu naaniis from his collection of poetry 'daLita naaniilu'. 

Naaniis are a new form of short poems, somewhat like haikus, that Telugu poets have been experimenting  with in the last two decades or so. 

Dr Kathi Padma Rao, talking about Pratap Kumar's naaniis, says:

Buddhism is the philosophical foundation of 'daLita naaniis'. Ambedkar vaadam (Ambedkarvad) is its sociology. The idiom is of the Dalit wadas. The expression stems from struggles and conflicts that are a part of life. Reading these aphorisms is like listening to my father, or my uncle, or my grandfather. 

Thousands of Rivers

Wednesday, February 22nd, 2012

But yesterday,

they came like a mountain,

my people.

They arrived in hordes

my men,

yesterday!

Black faces bearded with silver

burning eyes red with rage

burst through the blankets of sleep

breaking the barriers of day

breaching the bounds of night.

Earth heaved in the mountains of my men

and quaked to their dance of rage

and those who crawled in lines of ants

rose in paws of jungle beasts

and those who crept like reptiles

rose in cobra hoods.

They rose, my men, in mountains

shouting the red song

Down, down inequality

Down Caste Hierarchy

Down the bug that fattens on money.

Ah, they flooded and flowed in rivers,

my people, yesterday!

The town and village they inundated

they plunged to depths of unknown roots

they floated to heights of unseen stars.

See how by the bushes and under the trees

in the streets and in the alleys

they gather in hordes,

my people,

flushing down the ranks of Headman’s power

and the files of Money-lenders away.

These shout a shriek of defiance

those are struck dumb,

these thunder from angry throats

those fall silent.

Ah, the winds of Revolution,

my people,

have seized the throats of those cut-throats.

See how in the whirlwind

twist the police batons

and knives of secret agents.

See how the twigs and dry leaves

spin the debris of Vedas,

of Puranas and Shastras.

See how the dirt of ammunition

and hardware of gunmen

whirl in the whirlwind

of Revolution!

Ah, my people

how they flooded in thousands of rivers

to swell the Revolutionary Sea.

 

Siddalingaiah's Kannada poem translated by P Rama Murthy. Source: A string of pearls, Edited by H.S.Shivaprakash and K.S.Radhakrishna. Please read Siddalingaiah's interview here and a review of his book Ooru Kheri here

Welcome The Shared Mirror

Log in

Lost your password?