Saturday, December 21, 2024

The Cradle Swung by Air

                                    

                      


                                                             


              

                  Hearing the crying baby sound at night

                  Nature herself played the midwife’s part;

                 When the child opened the eyes

                 No fairies sang their ditties;

                 The owl and the gnat hooted and shrieked

                 In mutual competition;

                 The bat fluttered its wings

                 And none welcomed the new soul into this world;

                 None bounced with joy

                 And none felt what- more- I- lack

                None gave sweets

                None sang lullabies;

                None called the astrologer

                To predict the child’s future;

                None threw merry parties

                And gave a name in ceremonious show;

               None felt unbounded thrill

               And none touched the heaven’s frill;

               Lillies and jasmines bloomed in infant’s smiles;

              Yet none desired to gather or share

              The child was cradled in the same old crib

              The same in which his elder brother was swung.

              The child sucked milk from the bottle

              As his mother, too weak to suckle;

             The child grew thin as a stick;

             Alas! The future citizen of India!

             None covered him with warm clothes

             When he shivered in dark night cold

             None shielded him from burning heat.

                   *******************

           Telugu Original

          (The Cradle swung by air.. (A Surya Prakash.)

           Translated by:

           Somaseshu Gutala):           21st December, 2024)

Saturday, December 14, 2024

Leave the flames alone

 


                  


         

            For heavens’ sake do not put out the flame

            Don't  Drive it away from innocent dwellings

            Don't fear it sears and scorches our near and dear;

            Don’t argue that these fires are unnecessary;

            If the spark just goes out, it will be a disaster;

            There won’t be any light left;

            We shall lose all fervor and

             Life will come to a standstill;

            Darkness will freeze our souls

            The heart will turn into a stone;

            Winter will gnaw at the bones and

            The throat will turn dry as a biscuit

            Fretting and fuming for no reason;

            Why are you quenching the burning heart

            With indolent tears?

            Don’t lie like corpses----

            You are not statues

            Leave them alone—let those fires burn.

                    ***********************

            Original Telugu: A.Surya Prakash;

            Translated by: Somaseshu Gutala  

                                     14th December, 2024.

             Note: The flames represent man's aspirations.

 

 

 

          

 

Sunday, December 8, 2024

Vibrations

 

            


                                  


                          

                                 

                    A bird cries a weird cry somewhere

                    A dog whines and weeps bursting its throat

                    A star cut off from the sky

                    Sinks down towards the earth;

                    From somewhere, a lizard

                    Dropped at once on my head;

                    I haven’t yet enjoyed

                   The jasmines and moon-lit night

                   Still hope has not yet gone from my life;

                   Till now life was spent

                   In clearing the ground

                  Of its thorns and nettles.

                  I haven’t yet paid back

                  Half the sum of what

                  I took from this world;

                  I haven’t yet packed off

                  For my last final tour;

                 Why so early the guard is waving

                 The green banner at me?

                 Like a withered leaf

                 My body quivers

                 In the hot whirlwind.

                 Hope struggles hard in this last battle

                 I was steeped in tears

                My head was hard-hit by troubles

                And yet none has lent a helping hand

                Life’s boat is tossed up and down

                Amidst the torrential surging flow;

               Still, I seek for a straw around me

               I yearn not for heaven

              With dancing damsels;

              I like this earth, though

              It has no tempting nectar;

             No achievements I added to my credit

             I do not cry for higher things

            Stretching too far beyond my reach

            I do not like the chilly kiss of icy death

            And dreadful, graveyard silence.

              ***********---------- ***********

         Telugu Original: A. Surya Prakash

         Translated by: 

          Somaseshu Gutala               8th December 2024

    




Sunday, December 1, 2024

What is this country’s gift?

 

             


                                

                        The smell of the soil makes you

                        Swell with lively zeal;

                        The first showers of the season

                        Make your heart dance like a pea-cock

                        With feathers full unfurled;

                        Whenever I touch my first morsel

                        I cannot but think of you;

                        Not a strip of cloth on your body

                        Not a handful of food to fill your stomach;

                       The crop you reap with hard toil

                       Will not reach your mouth;

                       Not a pair of shoes to protect your feet;

                       Not a blanket to guard you

                       From the bite of wild winter’s fangs;

                      This raw soil under your feet

                      Became your shoes and this sky

                     Became a blanket to cover your limbs;

                     You seem like a lone camel in the desert

                     Bearing a heavy burden;

                     Though you lack food

                     You gave manure to tend your crops;

                     You crushed your bones and shed your sweat

                     And made yourself a manure

                     To nourish this soil;

                     The seeds you planted grew into green life;

                     Famine falls to your lot

                     Due to drought or floods;

                    We claim the fruits

                    That should be yours;

                    To work quietly is your part

                    To strike, to protest, we claim as our right;

                    If you do the same, we suffer and can’t survive;

                    If you ask me downright

                  “What is your share?”

                   What can white-collared workers

                   Like me, answer

                   Except hang our heads down with shame?

                   You are the man who ploughs the soil

                   We claim the fruits of your hard toil;

                   You are the man who reaps the crop

                   We claim the crop as ours;

                   You sweat under the horrid heat

                   We rest beneath the cool shade

                   You burn with hunger

                   From overeating we suffer;

                  Name is yours;

                  Result is ours;

                 Work is yours

                 Words are ours;

                 Practice is yours

                 Precept is ours;

                If you open your third flaming eye

                If you rear your furrowing plough;

               Our sins will burst

               Our plunder will be out

               And turn to dust.

        *************************

    In Telugu: A.Surya Prakash  

   (EE Desham neekemi Ichchindi?)

   Translated by: G.Somaseshu           1st December 2024

 

 

 

 

 

   

Tuesday, November 26, 2024

THE HAND OF PROTECTION (Abhaya Hastham)

 

             

                               

                                              


        

       Like an upright deep-struck harpoon

      On the body of a whale, I stand;

      Like the fiery sun belching fire, I will slash

      And fight against injustice.

      While the ground under our feet glides away

      While the heart, like a snow-ball melts away

      While tears trickle down to form an ocean

      I will generate power out of it.

      And infuse it to into the nerves of all;

      Though the dreamy castle burns down

      I will sprout another one;

      Though I fall off into a whirlpool

      I will rise again as a wave;

      I will become a flash sword of light

      To tear open and rip the womb of gloom;

      I will become the mighty Indra’s weapon

     To crush the ever-growing hill of corruption

     I will pave a new way; I will write a new lay;

     I will open the unopened door

     I will show the unseen shore;

     I will cut off Fear’s head

     And chop it into pieces that lurks

     Behind the narrow nooks of man’s mind;

     I will raise my hand of protection to all mankind.

                    ++++++++++++++++++++++++

         26th November 2024                 Somaseshu Gutala


         Note: Indra--- Lord of Heaven

                  Lay ------song

Telugu Original:A. Surya Prakash

Translated by : G.Somaseshu

   

  

  

 

 

 

 

Monday, November 18, 2024

Golden Moments

 

        

                                                 


                                               

                

          

 1.      The light of spluttering sparklers I see

In their bright jubilant eyes

The swirling whizz of rockets in skies

I hear in their shouts of joy with glee

The bursting blaze of red bombs resound

In their thunderous cries I found

The festival of merry colors and zeal

Their happy, happy laughter and shouts reveal.

 

2.  The sprouting fire-flowers from tinseled pots

     Brighten their laughing faces a lot

The whirling ground-discs with colors fraught

Make them leap with joy beyond my thought;

The hissing snakes from burning tablets of fire

The leaping sounds of crackers and sparklers inspire;

The leaping lads as crackers zip too fast so high

As if they seem to touch the brink of the sky.

 

3.     In spite of rocketing prices and limited means

Children with eager eyes look forward to burn

At least a bunch of crackers and none can spurn

Their zeal--since parents too are reluctant to wean

Them from this happy festive delight

To see them in bright light, a satisfying sight;

As they grow up, they may not feel same thrill

Let them enjoy these golden moments and chill.

 

4.   People may blame as wasteful expenses sheer

People may accuse as polluting atmosphere

Yet let them enjoy burning crackers green, no fear

A rare pastime for them once in a year

A special treat for them this bright event

Share joy with them though some money is spent.

Though they feel their happy hours end too short

This happy time remains ever in their hearts. 

 

5.     Elders can’t feel again their boyhood days

When they searched for left out crackers to light

Again, or collect colorful wrappers in daylight

But too much jubilation should not lead astray

With proper care and thought children should spend

Their merry time and not too long extend.

Let us their golden moments share with delight.

Even Nature with starry lamps brightens this night.

 

Note : 

1.Tinselled pots –flower-pots decked with colored paper.

2. Whirling discs of fire- circular shaped crackers that

    move round with bright colors shooting upward (Bhu Chakarms)                        

3. Hissing snakes – small black tablets when ignited 

                               send out curly snake-shaped soot.                                  

4. Red bombs –red-colored crackers when ignited 

                         explode with loud sound.                     

                      

5.  Green crackers –eco-friendly crackers that do not

                                pollute atmosphere.


                  ************************


  18th November, 2024       Somaseshu Gutala

Sunday, November 10, 2024

THE GATE KEEPER

 

                  

                                                          


                                      

              Despite so many colors on the screen

              None of them added color to your life;

              Despite so many grand scenes and splendid sights

              Nothing will lend their splendor to your life;

              Standing erect like a pole as if penalized for life

              Punching tickets seems only your life-line;

              Your anxious eyes with keen desire

              Look at the technicolored scenes

              And dream in vain of such happy days;

              Your eyes have turned dim with waiting

              Fringed with filmy despair;

              Just like the tickets you tear

              Your life has been torn—

              A dreary confusion;

              You escort the late comers to their seats

              With your torch light;

              Alas! For you none shows

              The seat: a pitiful plight.

                      ***************

    Telugu original: A. Surya Prakash; 

    Translated by:   Solmaseshu Gutala

                             9th November 2024

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Wednesday, November 6, 2024

THE MOVING JASMIN

 


                                                                                

               

                            Every passing moment

                  Strikes like a bludgeoning stroke;

                  Despair pervades the heart

                  Like misty smoke;

                  The swan of life

                  Spouting her blood out

                  Flutters her wings every moment

                  As if to leave the body and fly out;

                  Like the flogging strokes of lightning

                  Like piercing swords of fire

                  Like the stinging bite of serpents

                  The patients feel their inmost pain

                  Dragging heavily the burden of life;

                  Their groans fall like rain

                  Like lashing showers, their cries are heard;

                  Silence hurled away

                  Cut down from the sky above;

                  This is an abode of unrest;

                  Agony pours down from everywhere;

  

                 You seem like a ray of light

                 Your heart is like a picture

                 Exuding sweet perfume;

                 Your life is a sweet, sonorous poem;

                 No tedium on your face;

                With an unfading smile

                Moving briskly like a top

                You offer help and care

                Moving from bed to bed

               Without feeling any discomfort;

               Even the most unbearable stench

               You endure, breathing out

               Sweet perfume like a Jasmin;

               Dressed in white you shine like moonlight;

              With mercy in your eyes

              With sympathy in your words

              With tender feelings in your heart;

              With a benign healing touch

              You give hope to everyone;

              You give them a new taste for life

              And add glowing colors of a rainbow

              To their golden dreams of tomorrow;

              Whenever the patients behold you

              They feel endued with new life;

              You make them forget

              The despair of yesterday for the rosy tomorrow;

              Like sweet-coated bitter drugs

             With soothing words

             You make them forget

             The prick of your needle;

             You are a candle that burns at both ends;

             To burn and give light is your nature;

             To live for others is your motto;

             Oh, Sister! When I see you

             I recall the sweet-smelling Jasmin

            The white flower of light

            That gives comfort and hope to all.

            ******************************

In Telugu original: A. Surya Prakash           

                     Title : Kadile Malle

Translated by : G.Somaseshu            6th November 2024

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Friday, November 1, 2024

A Treatise on Poetry

 

                        

             

Poetry is the free, skillful dance on the stage

Poetry is the free, deft touch of the brush on the page;

Poetry is the melting flow of moonlight

Under the magic spell of the melodious flute;

Poetry is the shaping of stone into a figure

By the touch of a marvelous chisel;

Poetry is the burden of nine months

Giving birth to an infant-poem to bear;

Poetry is the warm caressing of the squirrel

Which tried to resist the tidal flow

With its soft bushy tail;

Poetry is the sprouting of wings

To sleeping thoughts in mind’s cradle;

Poetry is the sunny smile on a rainy day

Lingering on the lips of an old beggar-woman

When she gets a morsel to quench her inner fire;

Poetry is the flow of fresh blood into the heart;

Poetry is the vibration of heart with tear-filled eyes;

Poetry is the mining of gold out of the heart

Poetry is the burning of the heart with boiling thoughts;

Words are colored fishes that spring

From the sea of language

Beholding the sunshine;

Words are the few hairs left on a bald head

Which toss their ends in balmy breeze;

Whether skating on ice

Or swimming through fire

Words should sprout as freely as the milky teeth

Or tender growth of hair on the lips of rosy youth

With natural spirit and zeal.

Words should open the doors

To new, unimaginable worlds

Thoughts should not get lost amidst

The wild growth of meaningless words

To lose their content and be sacrificed

By the sharp beheading stroke of pen;

The heart should hear the essence of sound

The poet’s body

Should be all-seeing with many, many eyes

Like Indra the God of Heaven;

Rational and precise thoughts

Should be born on paper

After their struggle with doubts and questions;

That leap out of one’s own brain;

Poetry is the dance of well-dressed thoughts

On the stage of our tongue;

Poetry is the blossoming of diverse feelings

That shine like the colors of a rainbow

On the sky of mind in drizzling dawn;

Poetry is the conflagration of raging untruth

Breathing new life into dying untruth;

Poetry is the code of inner struggle;

Poetry is the infinite flow of the Ganges

Leaping from the heart of the Himalayas.

#################################

Telugu original: A. Surya Prakash                      1st November, 2024.

                           (Kavitvopanishad)

Translated by: G.Somaseshu

          

                                  A Note on Sri A. Surya Prakash

 

Surya Prakash is the son of Sri late A.Kishan Das who served as the Chairman of Nizamabad Municipality. His mother’s name is Smt.Radha. Surya Prakash did his postgraduation in Public Administration from Osmania University and later did M.A. in Telugu literature. He joined as Lecturer in Public administration on 1st April, 1970. He organized many poetry recital sessions, workshops and lectures by celebrated writers of Telugu literature.  Besides being himself a poet, he encouraged many of his colleagues and students to participate actively in literary and cultural activities. Many of his poems and essays were published in populat Telugu weeklies and journals such as Andhra Prabha weekly, Andhra Bhoomi weekly, India Today weekly, Chatura, Telugu, and Moosi journals. He established “Indur Bharati Association” on 14th January and worked as Secretary and as President for many years. He won many awards from famous literary organizations.  He worked as Principal in Girraj Govt. degree College, Nizamabad and retired on 30th April 2005.

He published more than twenty books in various literary genres such as poetry, essays, stories, criticism, film criticism etc. Some of his famous poetry books written by him are: Samspandna(1971), Nagaram Needalu(1974), Malli Suryodayam(1980), Kagitham Puvvu(1984),”Allaalku Otami ledu”(1987), “Patra harithamu(1994), “Suryuni Edo Gurramu(2013) and “Kotha Yugamu” (1985), a collection of literary essays. He also wrote books “Public Administration” and “Local Administration” published by Telugu Academy.  In 1984 he was selected as national poet in Telugu and recited his poem “Tholi Keka-Thudi Swasa” at All Language Poetry Conference. This poem was translated into fourteen languages later. He also went abroad and visited U.S. Tanzania and Eastern African countries. 

Even at the age of eighty years he is an avid reader and writes comments, essays and poems. As a great lover of books, he has a vast collection of books in Telugu and English language. As a poet he tried to bring to light the social conditions and attitudes of different characters in simple and precise language. He tried to reflect the living idiom of contemporary society and adopt a sarcastic approach with gentle humor to point out the foibles of people and society. At the same time, he tried to infuse an optimistic and positive thinking in the minds of his readers.

As a colleague I have been associated with him for more than three decades. I translated ten poems and with his permission I publish the translated versions of his Telugu poems. I tried to reflect the thoughts, tone and rhythm of his poems. Hope the readers will get a glimpse of his poetry and his poetic talent.

                                ************************