Wednesday, December 15, 2010

parakeets of Stone Chamber

Vidyashankar Poems

Translated by
k. rajeshwar

Poems for me
Write, You may

Never can you
Ever write
My poems.

* * *

Unable to speak

Unable to write

Unable to live

Are there umpteen
To titillate
To rob time

Few are there
To tell lived agonies
One among
Is me.

* * *


My Poems
Can it not be used
For something

To raise the collar
With stylized
English speaking folks
As Son of Soil

To fanciful film guys
Show and fuss about
As man of depth

To rip stupidity
Amidst silly jokes
At booze parties
By reciting poem

To make
Academy guys wonder
‘Is it? In Tamil?’
And smear Modernism

Can it not be used
For something
Like these

Writing still
Believing them as

* * *  

That you understand
Meant for Poems
Has claimed them away

What is left
Is Words’ being
And its pain.

* * *


I am incapable of
Going anywhere

Never taken efforts to
Meet anybody
Never known a place
Except mine

Important to go
See and know
Places there
In calling zone


Yet another quarter
Certainly you’ll need
Get a friend to buy
Before shop closes

No good omens
For life tomorrow

Till last gulp
Of drink
Of Kuzhathu Puzhaiyaru
Of Kumari sunrise
Of Thamirabarani
Of Philomi
Who went past forever
Beyond temple tower

Shriveled is everything
Nothing to
Tie together

Peanut mixture
Too, a good combination
Like pickles and
Fried fish

Incomplete drunkenness
Reminds waiting wife at home
Smiling son in awakened sleep

 And all others

Fully, totally and completely
Gulp the moon within 
For Oceans’ upheaval

Like wind
To dissolve without trace
One more quarter
I need

A friend
To search and fetch
To give money and get
Indeed I need him

However, never can
Kinship broken totally
Oh! Fool

Have you ever
Hugged and picked up
Street dog
Fed him milk
Tied ribbon on neck
And named him Bobby?

Have you ever
Got food and
Put an orphan kid
To sleep
In mid-night

Have you ever
Seeing stars falling
At your feet

Have you ever
Shed tears
Unable to bear
Quiver in the voice of
The Girl
You’re talking to

These things do happen
But, Rare

Makes being
A Living one
The Life.

When The Stone Sleeps


A humble soul

She never knew Devaram
Songs of Thayumanaswamy

Not even
Abhirami andhadhi
And Kandasashti Kavasam

She would tell
Tales of Karuppasmi
Marching for hunt

She worshiped
Hallowed Lamp

All she knew
Is to cook
Tasty food and serve

To keep
Home tidy

To slog day long

To face hardships

Never let
Tender heart
Go dry

She lived
With fortitude

She did anything -
In total involvement
Discipline, elegance
And wholeness
Bequeathed from
Her, we perhaps

Worries and meanness
She never knew

Like Mahishasuramardhini
She was

Lived with dignity
And self esteem
You should
Or else
Choose to die

Is it not
Fine to live
Life as she professed

Never expected
For anything
From any body

Never she
Sets her foot
At any doorstep
Who disrespects

Never hated
Anyone, had
No dreams
Or Ideals

Never disappointed
for anything

Not sad nor
Never wanting anything
Never spoke ill

Do you know
A thing

Never knew to write or

Five letters
That dad taught
She would scribble
Like scrawled letters of destiny

She lived like
A Wonder

* * *

Na. Azhagiasundaram Pillai

Can one be hated or loved
So deeply

Hated him
As much
I loved

More affectionate
Than I
Despised him

Till last moment
To forgive him

Spouted words
Like burning coal

It’s all over
Here I’m
As your remains

Many a people
Would have been needed
To put him down

Who had courage
To face off
That many

Had that incisive mind
That’d win
Any gamble

A persona

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