Friday, October 13, 2017

हो गई है पीर पर्वत-सी पिघलनी चाहिए

हो गई है पीर पर्वत-सी पिघलनी चाहिए,
इस हिमालय से कोई गंगा निकलनी चाहिए।
आज यह दीवार, परदों की तरह हिलने लगी,
शर्त लेकिन थी कि ये बुनियाद हिलनी चाहिए।
हर सड़क पर, हर गली में, हर नगर, हर गाँव में,
हाथ लहराते हुए हर लाश चलनी चाहिए।
सिर्फ हंगामा खड़ा करना मेरा मकसद नहीं,
सारी कोशिश है कि ये सूरत बदलनी चाहिए।
मेरे सीने में नहीं तो तेरे सीने में सही,
हो कहीं भी आग, लेकिन आग जलनी चाहिए।

Comments : An article in the paper ten days ago pointed me to this poem and I just loved it, perhaps that's because I haven't read a powerful Hindi poem in a while. Later on I found out that this is quite a well-known poem, and many people hear it during their childhood. I'm glad I finally discovered it - der aaye durust aaye. - Zen
Here's a link to a clip of Manoj Bajpai reciting the poem on a youtube channel called Hindikavita.

Tuesday, May 31, 2016

Dance me to the end of love

Leonard Cohen
Dance me to your beauty with a burning violin

Dance me through the panic 'til I'm gathered safely in

Lift me like an olive branch and be my homeward dove

Dance me to the end of love, dance me to the end of love
Oh let me see your beauty when the witnesses are gone

Let me feel you moving like they do in Babylon

Show me slowly what I only know the limits of

Oh dance me to the end of love, dance me to the end of love
Dance me to the wedding now, dance me on and on

Dance me very tenderly and dance me very long

We're both of us beneath our love, we're both of us above

Dance me to the end of love, dance me to the end of love
Dance me to the children who are asking to be born

Dance me through the curtains that our kisses have outworn

Raise a tent of shelter now, though every thread is torn

Dance me to the end of love
Dance me to your beauty with a burning violin

Dance me through the panic till I'm gathered safely in

Touch me with your naked hand or touch me with your glove

Dance me to the end of love, dance me to the end of love

Dance me to the end of love

Comments : The version I have been listening to - from the Essential Cohen collection – is available on the itunes store. Located this link if you want to see the video

Deceptively a simple love song is actually far more… research it and find out.. 
( Ed - I found the answer on wikipedia, and it's really worth reading - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dance_Me_to_the_End_of_Love )

The standout for me in this standout song is  “We're both of us beneath our love, we're both of us above
…
Dance me to the end of love, dance me to the end of love..”
Gift yourself some Cohen – you won’t regret it, or maybe you will J. - S.

Monday, January 5, 2015

Year's End

By Ted Kooser

Now the seasons are closing their files
on each of us, the heavy drawers
full of certificates rolling back
into the tree trunks, a few old papers
flocking away. Someone we loved
has fallen from our thoughts,
making a little, glittering splash
like a bicycle pushed by a breeze.
Otherwise, not much has happened;
we fell in love again, finding
that one red feather on the wind.

Comments : Loved the imagery in this one, beginning with the very first line, 'seasons closing their files on each of us', delicious. - Zen  (p.s. thanks to AD for sharing this poem)

Sunday, January 4, 2015

New Year’s Day

By  Kim Addonizio

The rain this morning falls   
on the last of the snow

and will wash it away. I can smell   
the grass again, and the torn leaves

being eased down into the mud.   
The few loves I’ve been allowed

to keep are still sleeping
on the West Coast. Here in Virginia

I walk across the fields with only   
a few young cows for company.

Big-boned and shy,
they are like girls I remember

from junior high, who never   
spoke, who kept their heads

lowered and their arms crossed against   
their new breasts. Those girls

are nearly forty now. Like me,   
they must sometimes stand

at a window late at night, looking out   
on a silent backyard, at one

rusting lawn chair and the sheer walls   
of other people’s houses.

They must lie down some afternoons   
and cry hard for whoever used

to make them happiest,   
and wonder how their lives

have carried them
this far without ever once

explaining anything. I don’t know   
why I’m walking out here

with my coat darkening
and my boots sinking in, coming up

with a mild sucking sound   
I like to hear. I don’t care

where those girls are now.   
Whatever they’ve made of it

they can have. Today I want   
to resolve nothing.

I only want to walk
a little longer in the cold

blessing of the rain,   
and lift my face to it.

Comments : A bittersweet poem, about loneliness, nostalgia and solitude; I liked the rhythm and the way the scene unfolds. - Zen

Saturday, January 3, 2015

December 31st

By Richard Hoffman

All my undone actions wander
naked across the calendar,

a band of skinny hunter-gatherers,
blown snow scattered here and there,

stumbling toward a future
folded in the New Year I secure

with a pushpin: January’s picture
a painting from the 17th century,

a still life: Skull and mirror,

spilled coin purse and a flower.

Comments : Three days too late posting this poem, but what the heck. Better late than never. Loved the imagery in it , though I'm not quite sure I deciphered the last few lines correctly. - Zen

Thursday, January 1, 2015

Happy New Year !

Comments : To bring in the New Year, here're two poems, one by Kobayashi Issa and another nod in his direction by Richard Hass. Happy 2015, everyone.

Here's Kobayashi Issa's haiku for the day :
New Year's Day--
everything is in blossom!
I feel about average.
Translated by Robert Hass

After the gentle poet Kobayashi Issa
Richard Hass
New Year’s morning—
everything is in blossom!
I feel about average.
A huge frog and I
staring at each other,
neither of us moves.
This moth saw brightness
in a woman’s chamber—
burned to a crisp.
Asked how old he was
the boy in the new kimono
stretched out all five fingers.
Blossoms at night,
like people
moved by music
Napped half the day;
no one
punished me!
Fiftieth birthday:
From now on,
It’s all clear profit,
every sky.
Don’t worry, spiders,
I keep house
casually.
These sea slugs,
they just don’t seem
Japanese.
Hell:
Bright autumn moon;
pond snails crying
in the saucepan.

Sunday, March 9, 2014

Langston Hughes, Poet to Bigot

I have done so little
For you,
And you have done so little 
For me,
That we have good reason
Never to agree.

I, however, 
Have such meager
Power,
Clutching at a 
Moment,
While you control
An hour.

But your hour is 
A stone.

My moment is
A flower.


Comments : A rather apt poem as we head into an election that is dividing some states along communal or caste-based lines. Even without that context, love the poem for the precision, brevity and deftness with which the message is delivered.     - Zen
To read more about Langston Hughes, click on this link.