Dr. Abhijit Shahaji Khandkar
Poem 1:
(Original poem in Marathi)
भीमा तुझ्या मताचे जर पाच लोक असते
तलवारीचे तयांच्या न्यारेच टोक असते
वाणीत भीम आहे करणीत भीम असता
वर्तन तुझ्या पिलांचे सारेच चोख असते
गोळी खुशाल घाला, फाशी खुशाल द्यारे
खोटे इथे खऱ्याचे दुसरेच टोक असते
तत्त्वाची जाण असती बिनडोक लोक नसते
सारे चलन तयांचे ते रोखठोक असते
सद्भाव एकतेचे जर अन्तरात असते
तुटले कुणीच नसते सारेच एक असते
वामन, समान सारे स्वार्थाने अंध नसते
तुझिया नीतीप्रमाणे सारेच नेक असते
भीमा तुझ्या मताचे जर पाच लोक असते
तलवारीचे तयांच्या न्यारेच टोक असते
English Translation –
Bhima, of your opinion, if only five people had been
How different the glaze of their swords would have been
If their actions too had Bhim, just as their words have Bhim
How perfect the behaviour of your children would have been
Don't hesitate to shoot, hang me if you feel
The lie here is just another end of where the truth had been
They would have understood ideals, wouldn't have been empty - headed
All of their conduct, how bold it would have been
If they carried the good sense of unity deep within
No one would have been broken,
How solid all of it would have been
Waman, not everyone is blinded by selfishness
According to your principles, what good it would have been
Bhima, of your opinion, if only five people had been
How different the glaze of their swords would have been
Poem 2:
Original Poem in Marathi
सांगा आम्हाला बिर्ला बाटा टाटा कुठाय हो?
सांगा धनाचा साठा न् आमचा वाटा कुठाय हो?
घाम शेतात आमचा गळे,
चोर ऐतच घेऊन पळे
धन चोरांचा हा पळण्याचा फाटा कुठाय हो?
न्याय वेशीला टांगा सदा,
माल त्याचा की आमचा वदा
करा निवाडा आणा तराजु, काटा कुठाय हो?
लोणी सारं तिकडं पळं,
इथं भुकेनं जिवडा जळं
दुकानवालेदादा आमचा आटा कुठाय हो ?
इथ बिऱ्हाड उघड्यावर,
तिथं लुगडी लुगड्यावर
या दुबळीचं धुडकं-फडकं धाटा कुठाय हो?
इथं मीठ मिरची अन् तुरी,
तिथं मुरगी काटा सुरी
सांगा आम्हाला मुरगी कटलेट काटा कुठाय हो?
शोधा सारे साठे चला,
आज पाडा वाडे चला
वामनदादा आमचा घुगरी घाटा कुठाय हो?
- लोकशाहीर वामनदादा कर्डक
English Translation –
Tell us - Birla, Bata, Tata - where is it?
Tell us in your pile of wealth, our share - where is it?
In the farms, our sweat drips,
the thief loots what is not his
The road through which they plunder our wealth, run away with - where is it?
Hanging the law on clothesline,
whose wealth increases their or mine
Sort it out now! Bring the weighing scales - where is it?
All cream runs towards them,
here we sit with hunger burning
Hey Shopkeeper Dada, our bag of wheat - where is it?
Here our women lie naked,
there heaps of sarees upon sarees
This frail woman's tattered rags, clothing - where is it?
Here just salt, chilli and water - gravy
there chicken, knives and forks
Tell us - our chicken cutlet, fork - where is it?
Search, everyone come together,
search all the mansions, streets
Wamandada, our jingling ankle bracelet - where is it?
~~~
Dr. Abhijit Shahaji Khandkar is a pathologist and writer with a keen interest in translation. He observes the microcosm world under the lens of his microscope and macrocosm of society with his writing. He is a Dalit poet by assertion and believes all art is political.
