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Love-Patriotism Even if My Life Be in Hell Bhima Bhoi Ordained by our holiness, we shall kindle the initiatory sacred flame by singing your glory. Having bought this slave why are you forsaking him midway? I have no confidence and have lost all courage. What must I do? Ministering to the Universe, nurturing the devotees, heedful of your devotees' sorrow, you bear the entire burden. Here they are at your holy feet for you to bear the load of your devotees' woes on your back. You have yoked prosperity and misery, salvation and damnation together. Who will carry? the burden of sin and sorrow? Let it continue to lie at your feet. Having manifested yourself why are you apathetic? Where shall I flee and hide? Today shall I unfasten the burden of my sins? and lay them out at your feet. Having surrendered themselves, all the wailing devotees are prostrate at your feet. Forgiving all their sins and crimes, O master, nurture them carefully. How do you endure your importuning devotees, and their endless sorrows? Even if my life be consigned to hell let the world be saved. Translated from Oriya by Sumanyu Satpathy Love- Patriotism On the Bank of the Seine (What the Homesick Man said) Ajit Barua "Tell him I have bought four karas worth of land at the Chila Hill. I shall not go." I have loved Asom like an obstinate man With the world I have little to do. So, on the blank of the Seine In beautiful Spring I am sitting right in the middle of the day In the month of Bohag, Under a forlorn Saora tree In the village of Ajara. (Where sunshine looks that rain Have you ever looked that far Over endless fields?) I am seeing in the junction of Farkating A night train stopped for eternity. My place is not here My place is by the side of the Borsilla bil On the bank of the Kaldia river On the broken bridge of the Kolong. In the tea garden of Rongagora. The intoxication that grows In the chalky land of Champagne---the perfume In the ochre land of the Darjeeling hill Does not grow in any other place. The mind that grew in the mud of the Luit, The mind that forever wanders Among the Dadigdiga shrubs of the Pagladiariver, That mind will find salvation only on its banks. Whatever little have I seen of the Earth's loveliness, In the same measure my longing increased For the Bokul flower picked from the ground In the knot of my mother's shawl. I have no use for looking at the float of History Going down the Seine I want to see without a drop of my eyelid, Without knowing what I did The sun going down over the bamboo leaves. I have no use for looking at the gallop Of horse in the museum of modern art I want only to see The grass boiling in a broken pot For our red-black cow. I have no use for the Seine, For the Loire, for the Isere-chained rivers. I see the Disang in flood In the month of Ahar The swirl spinning the ferry-boat Crushing on the river's bank. Rene Descartes, Comte, Sartre You think, therefore you are I see so I am, I hear so I am I get smell, I get flavour I get warmth That is why I am And I have loved Asom Like a obstinate man That is why I am To the world-my salutation: Translated from Assamese by the author. Love - Patriotism The Song of the Students Kazi Nazrul Islam We are the power and the strength-- we the students. The storm dies under our feet, above us are the sky, the storm and rain. We are the students. We march barefooted in the darknessof night on a difficult road, with the impact of our terrific march we redden the hard earth with blood! In age after age our blood has wetted the soil of the earth -the blood of us students. Our souls fly unbounded almost like the unorbited comet. We are ever the sacrifices at the altar of the Goddess of Luck. When Goddess Lakshmi ascends to heaven We reach the limitless blue below, we students. We hold the reins of the sacrificial horse of the king of death our deaths record the annals of our lives! we erode the banks. We the young make the road slippery with our blood in the dreadful night, we the students. The lamp of wisdom shines in our eyes, our hearts are full of illuminating speech, the call of eternity rings in our confident voices. We have reddened with fresh blood the white lotus of Goddess Saraswati, we the students. These days of revolt of the masses we lay down our heads, in us cries the liberation of the century! We have filled the verdant train of the mother's clothe with tears of glory, we the students. We build the future of love and hope, the galaxy in the sky points our way to heaven, May the dreams of all the world's men and women be fulfilled in our visions: the visions of us- students! Translated from Bengali by Basudha Chakrabarty Love-Tolerance Storm Rakshat Puri The storm that blows in me blows nowhere else. It's kind of you to listen to me say so though kindness is a gain that love cancels. A gathering of metaphysical laughter repels the platitude about what comes must go. The storm that blows in me blows nowhere else. The argument in massed design, that tells of a dragging maze is the decorated door to kindness which is a gain that love cancels. The lush in the dark assembles many spells to call forward a shape kinetic below the storm that blows in me and nowhere else. Dream or nightmare, each in turn compels a complex construction on what love may show. Though kindness is a gain that love cancels. A passing thought of brave universals signs to words lost symbol-sung gestures ago. The storm that blows in me blows nowhere else though kindness is a gain that love cancels. Love-Friendship Couplet Bulleh Shah Damn prayer Throw mud on religious fasting, Black out the kalma with ink! I found my Love when I returned Within, People search clueless. Translated from Punjabi by Rakshat Puri. Love-Humanism Gandhi Dr. J .P. Das All the experiments with truth turned into slogans. Life's philosophy stuck to the statue's blind eye. Achievement was circumsized by definitions. The soul was taken over by crass opportunism. For the entrenchment religion war was fought For the maintenance of peace slums of the oppressed were gutted. Swearing by the art of deception, the testimony of truth was probed. Harijans were ostracized. The lowest of the low Sunk even lower. There are no more seekers after truth. No one bothers about the means. Everyone eyes the spurious end. The relics the capital of Good conduct has been spend in the relentless black-marked of unequivocal profit and loss. The imperialists have gone away looking for new colonies. Peace prices have been awarded to warmongers. The old pocket watch can not cross the poverty line. The horror of the painted truth is no more visible though the thick glasses. The scant loin cloth can not hide the obscenity of absolute power. The savage ferocity of the terrorist can not be stopped by the lathi to support a frail body. All the clocks are dead and mute. Echoes of prayers are silent. History takes leave. Religion returns to its shame Freeing himself from stone statues. disciplines of definitions. movies and anniversaries, he walks away in brisk pace towards the raised guns of a new band of assassins. Translated from Oriya by Sumanyu Satpathy Love-Sympathy Night of the Scorpion I remember the night my mother was stung by a scorpion. Ten hours of steady rain had driven him to crawl beneath a sack of rice. Parting with his poison flash of diabolic tail in the dark room he risked the rain again. The peasants came like swarms of flies and buzzed the Name of God a hundred times to paralyse the Evil One. With candles and with lanterns throwing giant scorpion shadows on the sun-baked walls they searched for him: he was not found. They clicked their tongues. With every movement that the scorpion made his poison moved in Mother's blood, they said. May he sit still, they said. May the sins of your previous birth be burned away tonight, they said. May your suffering decrease the misfortunes of your next birth, they said. May the sum of evil balanced in this unreal world against the sum of good become diminished by your pain. May the poison purify your flesh of desire, and your spirit of ambition, they said, and they sat around on the floor with my mother in the centre, the peace of understanding on each face. More candles, more lanterns, more neighbours, more insects, and the endless rain. My mother twisted through and through groaning on a mat. My father, sceptic, rationalist, trying every curse and blessing, powder, mixture, herb and hybrid. He even poured a little paraffin upon the bitten toe and put a match to it. I watched the flame feeding on my mother. I watched the holy man perform his rites to tame the poison with an incantation. After twenty hours it lost its sting. My mother only said: Thank God the scorpion picked on me and spared my children. Love-Humanism/Sympathy Love Child Makhdoor Mohiuddin You may hide love at the bottom of a well, But a voice will haunt you. Sometimes as song on moonlit nights, Sometimes as black laughter from the mad-house. A voice will haunt you, It will haunt you. That voice, A child, rejected, fatherless, One day, Borne along on crosses, Led forth the children of this world And became God. A mother, Long years ago, Fearful of society, Abandoned her beloved child On the roadside. That child, rejected, fatherless, One day, Borne along on crosses, Led forth the children of this world And became God. Translated from Urdu by Balraj Komal. Love-Courtesy Garderner Dom Moraes When they moved into the house It was winter. In the garden a sycamore stood. No other root nor shoot, but wild nettles Good only for a bitter soup. He planned Flowers around the sycamore for summer, The great splayed rose, the military tulip, All colours, smell of sun, himself with spade Drinking cold beer with his wife. Spring came. He rooted up the nettles with his hands. He burnt them all, stamped on the clotted ash, Tamping new seeds in, fingering stones aside. This work he wanted, his hands came alive. They wanted flowers to touch. But from his care Only the tough nasturtiums came. They crawled In sullen fire by the wall a week. But the soil was sour, the roots went unfed. Even they ceased to clutch, their heads fell forward. All summer was the same. He fed the soil, Flicking out stones, plucking the few sparse shoots. The trapped flowers were trying to escape. But died in their cells, and winter came. Next year he planted early. Spring brought up Over fussed tussocks, a green scanty surf. Then it receded, but a tide wrack stayed Of shriveled leaves, shoots like dead dragonflies. Then nettles crawled back. Now he didn't care. His hands were useless, the earth was not his. It did things to him, never he to it. He watched the nettles with a little smile. Then in the snowdrift of a summer bed He planted himself, and a child came- -News that he knew early one winter day. He came home dumbly from the hospital. The garden gate was open. He went out, Stood by the sycamore, watched the clouds moult, Stood in the chilly and falling feathers Under the sycamore, and not knowing why He felt his hands become alive, and touched The tree’s smooth body with a kind of joy, Thinking next summer it would have new leaves. Love-Devotion Voyage To begin to love is to set out to sea in a small boat, destination unknown. You may get far out into that wide ocean, or be castaways on a dangerous island. You may be smashed upon the rocks nearer the shore, or drown in that deep treacherous water, or survive clinging to the sides of the boat. You may even sink forever clutching at one another, innocent voyage undertaken so lightly. But love is always a stretching out into unknown water. It is the charting of unmapped territory, And the discovery of forgotten lands. It was Siva, her primordial lover, Whom she had met before the dawning of days. At such moments their love was intense And they became one The androgynic God Ardhanarishwara Eternal, Infinite. Love-Devotion (It may be changed to Non-Violence- Spirit of Enquiry or Peace- Purity of Thought) My Journey Ali Sardar Jafri 'Like the grass, I have sprouted a hundred times' (Rumi) The day will come When the eye-lamps will fade The hand-lotuses wilt And the butterfly of speech forever flies The flower of tongue. All faces blossoming like buds, Laughing like flowers, Will one day, disappear To the shadowy depths of the sea. All pulsing blood, all beating hearts, All melodies will be hushed. On the velvet of blue sky This-shining gem,- This heaven, this earth of mine, Without knowing, understanding, Will weep tears of dew. On the handful of dust that is man. From the temples of memories Every single thing will have gone. Then no one will ask: Where is Sardar? But I'll come here again, Speak through children's voices, Sing in the calls of birds. When seeds smile under the earth And seedlings, with nimble fingers Caress the layers of soil I'll open my eyes Through every bud, each blade of grass. On my green palm I'll balance the droplets of dew. I'll become the glow of cheeks, The beat of melodies. Like the blush of the modest bride, I'll sparkle through every veil. When the wintry winds blow And autumn leaves fall Under the lively feet of travelers My laughter will sound In the crunching of dry leaves. All golden streams of the earth, All blue lakes of the sky Will be filled with my being. And the world will see That every tale is my tale, Every lover Sardar here, And every love Sultana*. I am a fleeting moment From the magic house of time. I am a restless droplet Busy travelling From the flask of the past To the cup of the future. I sleep and awaken And fall asleep again. I am a play, centuries old, Death makes me live forever. Translated from Urdu by Baidar Bakht and Kathleen Grant Jaegar. Love- Friendship Balraj Komal When the delicate fragrance Of your hand Passing through your fingers to my fingers Permeated my palm I gathered it In my possessive fist As if I would retain for ever Only for myself Your blossoming face - Your resplendent beauty. I felt you From probability to a pleasant dream And was bathed in light From head to foot. I unlock today My yearning fingers And set you free, O fragrance! You may freely fly now In azure expanse May kiss the skies, Alight on stars, Take elements in your arms - You are fragrance, colour, light An opening bud, An awakening new life. Translated from Urdu by the author. Love- Friendship The Moment Kaifi Azmi Whenever I kiss her beautiful eyes, a hundred lamps light up in the dark. The heart is drawn to dry lips. A thousand mirrors dance in the blood. Blossoms, buds, the moon, the stars, even my foes stoop down and touch my feet. The mind is aflame, the soul afire. A human resplendence prevails around. Temples give out heavenly light. Smiling gods reign over skies. The Ajanta figures frisk and dance. Caves for ages mute burst into song. The bounty of spring for ever abounds. Beneficent clouds float in the sky. The world for a moment sheds its angry malevolent face. The stones for a moment cover themselves with a radiant smile. Translated from Urdu by Balraj Komal.
Love- Sincerity Dream Ganga Prashad Vimal Ever seen snow fall? ---- without fuss whole fields are lost from sight, and whiteness overcomes wide forests. But, detained in dream I see a wood of deep green; on the pinnacles of Shrikanth temple flutter multicoloured banners. Then the scene changes, there are sky supporting mountains--- and, on snow, the sun's dazzling linen. Like paper-landscapes clinging to house-walls a ravishing tableaux is screened on the cliffs of my thoughts. Slowly the day-dream goes out, and like an apparition a mere remembrance lingers on in memory's dim rooms. Translated from Hindi by Keshav Malik Love-Tolerance A Leafless Tree Dr. V. K. Gokak I. It doesn't have a single leaf and that itself is its beauty! My heart rushes towards it continuously with joy! My soul-bird flies about it among its leafless boughs freely, expecting nothing neither buds nor flowers nor fruit. The naked form, with innumerable angles--- That is more than enough, I think! II The mathematics of angles--- ah! What great gymnastics! Boughs rising from the trunk, branches shooting from the boughs, and tendrils sprouting at the ends in subtle patterns! From the trunk to the top there are a hundred forms, projecting the entire series of Euclid's theorems: triangle, radius, square, circumference, diameter, diagonal-- then Why do we need colours? and why the leaves? III My love went down to the bare roots and coursed up everywhere. Beauty streamed through all the boughs and turned into leaves, animating the tree, inviting the breezes: it's life's juice budding, sprouting, red and beautiful--- my love turning to raw fruits and ripe loading the tree till it swayed about. It's magic fructifying the Void! IV There's electric charge in the network of its branches, but no lightning of creepers in it. This is a ready made veena; the Spring, the player hasn't fingered it yet. It's a skeleton made by the machine-yogi: blood hasn't coursed through it. This is Arjuna's chariot, with no Krishna driving it triumphantly. It's not the Spring-chariot of joy with a garland of tender leaves. The magician west wind hasn't come and uttered the mantras of Spring. V Oh boughs! Oh branches! Why have you stretched your hands towards the sky? Do you think the rain of mercy will fall from the sky and nourish you? What use that army of clouds wandering like vagabonds? You'd better stretch your roots a little more deeply. Life is in the depths. The rain of grace which had fallen once is now a subterranean stream: it will nourish you, and tomorrow the Spring rain might come down, like Dharma, to protect and bless! Translated from Kannada by S.K.Desai. Love- Friendship Beyond the Blue Amiya Chakravarty Leave a little void somewhere Within your life so full-- The solitary temple of a moment Where, in utter seclusion You are all your own Keep away your happy consciousness And remain awhile With just your own thoughts. Encase the eternal solitude With precious creations Of such inaccessible moments, Evoking the one who dwells Within your heart of hearts Perhaps some day I shall open the silent door Of your tender solitude And share your thoughts In your quiet meditation Laying bare my heart To its boundless charm! So keep a little void Deep within your heart. Translated from Bengali by Swapna Dutta. Love- Devotion Him Shakti Chattopadhayay I have sought Him in the sea At times in rocks At times in autumn In the tranquil storm within my heart In rain, in drought In flowers, in roots At times Someone has seemed to whisper Just look and hear But say nothing Do not step out Just remain where you are It's not for you To shake the roots And pull up trees--- You are here to hoard your desires All the rest Which does not touch your existence Means nothing at all. At times I've sought Him in the sea At times in rocks At times in autumn In the tranquil storm Within my heart. Translated from Bengali by Swapna Dutta. Love-Friendship The Night of Ravenous Hair Girija Kumar Mathur Ah, the shadow of your dark black magic has pervaded my being: within me your body keeps time to the tune of some wild song's floating melody. Even during sleep its echoes reverberate; and in the same place its melody pulsates. Ah, the shadow of your wonder has permeated my world: My calm eyes see strange fantasies and things receding into the distance acquire a new meaning. Dust settling on age lifts up as the incomplete monument within myself moves towards consummation In this exhausting boredom of superfluous work you with the night of flowering hair, suddenly come... Ah, you are the flower clinging to my colourless lonely existence : my words like fragrance hang upon your arms. My colourful words are but imprints of your lips. The intensity of my voice reflects the warmth of your rising desires. In this emptiness this denuded time... you are a pungent taste lingering in me.... Ah, you are a dark shadow pervading my being..... Translated from Hindi by Tavishi Tiwari Love- Patriotism/Humanism. Little Darlings Atma Singh Chitti These stars in our eyes These little darlings- Keeps safe the joy and laughter Keep safe your love for the other No outcaste among you Keep safe and with all share goodness These stars in our eyes These little darlings--- Take our love now Take our love Brace us when age overtakes Stay close to us now, stay close to us then Read write play Today— These stars in our eyes These little darlings! Blessings comfort wisdom to you! Love, do not hate--- These stars in our eyes These little darlings! Raise high your thinking, my children Raise high your country’s worth Raise high yourself from pettiness These stars in our eyes These little darlings. Translated from Punjabi by Swarn Singh Love-Sincerity In Exchange Brajnath Rath In exchange of my tears I bought a flower, a flower of affection. I planted that flower in every soul. I know not if ever anyone will give it its worth. In exchange of my blood I got a bird, a bird of peace. I release that bird into the sky around the world. I known not if it will usher in the rains of new hope. In exchange of my dream I plucked a star, a star from the sky. I lit my earthen lamp with that star. I know not if it will light a flame in every soul. In exchange of my heart I got a woman, a woman of unsuppressed beauty, and I dedicated my all to her. I know not if she has fathomed my innermost core. The flower I got in exchange of my tears, the bird I got in exchange of my blood. the star I plucked in exchange of my dream. The woman I got In exchange of my soul: Will these turn my mud-hut into a heaven? Or will they turn the world into my hut? in exchange of everything I have hopes of getting all. Swimming in the light of hope Quivering to the song of life I bide my days and nights. Translated from Oriya by Sumanyu Satpathy Love- Tolerance. The Mother Balraj Komal The burden on my mother's bent back grows heavier and heavier as dawn heralds a new-born day. The children she bore- my brothers, sisters near and dear ones- all my own now cover the earth far and away and keep on unloading on her bowed down back countless measures of rotting debris of their time-old sins. The mother, they think will carry her burden to the end of the road. But the mother is now so heavily weighed down under the mounting load on her back it's likely that the protective distance that so far saved her from her death may eventually come to a mournful naught. But she, the Mother never she falters never she stops on her way. Oblivious of things quiet and serene beyond all weariness at her usual pace on she struggles on she trudges and on and on .... Translated from Urdu by the author. Love- Devotion Hymn of Love Ullor Parmeshwara Iyer 1. The world has but one religion-Love, which is its life, A full moon that feeds us all on the nectar-milk. The supreme cosmic power assuming different forms-Devotion, Love, Compassion and the like- Sheds its lustre on all this earth. Hate, its foe, is nothing but atheistic faith; Lo! the world fallen to its darkness reaps premature death. A fatal deity it is that turns bridal-chamber into a funeral pyre; Floral garden into wasteland and Heaven into Hell. 2. A sentence conveys sense only when words are put in order, A song becomes melodious to the car when tune and timing blend. Is not the entire world of the animate and the inanimate An embodiment of countless groups of infinite atoms? Even an insect has nowhere to live apart from others; Even the omnipotent is on Nature dependent in Universal Dispensation. The Lord blends in creation and breaks in dissolution, The Earth, Water, Fire, Air and Sky. The blossomed flower needs the bee to make this earth a Heaven. The people of the world are but noble fruit Of the celestial tree of mutual love planted in virtuous couples. The pregnant mother for whom even a flower on her hair is a weight, Carries the unbearable child-in-womb in joy. Surrounded as we are by service-minded people Like father, mother, brothers, relations and friends As well as wife, sons, servants and the like, all bound alike by love. 3. We rejoice that the sea of mundane life a green meadow. The mirror of the Universe reflects our moods The cave of the Universe echoes our voice; The Universe is a parrot well-versed in repeating our words: The Universe is an actor who cleverly imitates our inner moods; The Universal soil yields us the fruit of the seed we have sown: The Universe offers bouquets or brickbats in return for our deeds The entire world is full of light to him that has light within him. And it is ever more full of deathless joy to him that has virtue shining in him. Nothing in this world is beautiful if there is no spectator: Wherein is this relative sense present, in God's creation? The natural mood present in matter is mutual attraction; The primary virtue inherent in all creatures is mutual love. Prostrate, we rise; sowing, we eat; giving, we gain; We are ourselves the architects of our heaven and our hell. Men rise to godhead if they wipe away the world's sorrows By suffusing their minds, eyes, tongue and hands with great compassion, Nature shines around us as the donor of supreme joy Appearing as she does in different forms like stone, shrubs, medicines, birds, animals and the like. Those who have eyes to see can see in us as well as in them, Our supreme Father who shines as the embodiment of love. They can hear the holy preceptor chanting all too loudly The Upanishad of service in the best school that is this world. Brothers are we, all sprung of the same loins; And all creatures are but the warp and woof of the fabric of earth. What wonder is there if God, the formless, is invisible To those who have no eyes to see their brethren standing by? O! victory to the world's foundations divine and wonderful Indivisible, unimaginable in glory and without beginning, middle or end. In the low-born Pulaya as well as in the high-born Brahmin In the small insect as well as in the sun-its radiance is manifest Little difference is there between King and King and between slave and slave; In them burns alike the same flame called 'soul' lit from it. 4. Prostrations to thee, my Life-giver, O Cosmic Dancer! O! Supreme Soul! I am but a humble member of your company of dancers called mankind. Lord! the will to assign the role for me is thine And the duty to enact it so as to please the world, is mine. It is acting well one's part, not the costume, that's great, no doubt. Though the king may spoil the stage while the attendant enhances its effect From within me but not to others known You lead my feet to the steps of your choice When I follow tlie lead you give I become an expert dancer, showering glory On my fellow-actors and spectators O! Supreme of Souls! accessible as thou art only through devotion Who without eyes anointed with universal love can see thee? The happiness of others is, of course, my happiness; their sorrow, mine; You and I and others-aren't these but one and the same? At your disposal is my body as well as my life; pleased be thou To make it useful to others day and night: I salute thee O Lord! Translated from Malayalam by N.K. Seshan. Love- Devotion. The Nature of Love Tirukkkural Can love be contained by a bolt? A tear makes known the great love within. The loveless are self-centred; the loving give all themselves to others. The present union of soul and body derive from the need for love. From love to the forging of kindred minds: that's the secret of friendship. Domestic joy here and bliss hereafter depend on a life of love. The naive say that love aids virtue, but love safeguards against vice as well. As the fierce sun burns up the boneless worm, virtue withers the loveless. A lack-love householder ekes out his life like a parched-up desert-tree. When, denied love, the soul within is maimed vain are the fair outer limbs. The body ruled by love houses a soul; loveless, it is skin and bone. Translated from Tamil by K.R. Srinivasa Iyer. Love-Patriotism New Story Bachan Singh Bhullar Tell me a story, Grandma Tell me a doll a story My doll wants to hear a story And I want to hear it too! Once upon a time There lived a King and his Queen--- But this is an old, old story Grandma! Tell us a story of today Something new, something fresh Something of the independence struggle Of Bose, Jawaharlal and Gandhi Of some marvellous revolution Of Udham, Bhagat and Sarabha Of some soldier who died young for us Or some worker working to produce in some mill Or some peasant tilling a field. Or some other tale, fresh, very new Tell us a story of today. Translated from Punjabi by Swarn Singh. Love- Tolerance and readiness to co-operate Orchard
Of Ram Ushanas In
the land of Ram, in Ram's farmsteads Let
us not stamp our separate tags. Master
Ram's corn is scattered in this world's birdpark And
over it you have spread a fine net of intrigue Do
not scare away the birds from seeds of grace. Orchard
of Ram belongs to the entire village unfenced If
your might rules, try barricading the sky By
building boundaries blemish not the horizon. Justly
watering let us savour Ram's garden We
will relish Ram's fruit sharing slices with all Let
us plenish our plates along with everyone. Translated
from Gujarati by Dileep Javeri Love -Patriotism Folk Songs on Bhagat Singh The night his mother bore Bhagat Singh That night was born nobody elso. And when Bhagat Singh was born The jungle echoed to the lion’s roar! Twelve years he went away to work And brought his earnings home Bhagat Singh went to the Assembly And burst a blasting bomb! Foreigner you will not rule here long You have killed Bhagat Singh You will not last here long! Translated from Punjabi by Swarn Singh. Love- Patriotism Impetuous
Virtue Krishanlal
Sridharani A
mutiny declared The
flag that had slithered down Was
raised again by upsurging hands; the enemy shuddered But
the fate did not quaver Goodwill
was yet incapable To
extract the essence from future. Columns
of warriors lying A
line marked by history But
the downlaids smile from within; ‘Someday
this rout will turn into victory' Inopportune
to the Destiny the
challenge without gauging the enemy strength remains
merely a shade. A
star sank The
mutiny was muted Shrouded
by earth, decaying to become compost (The
new dawn: night's abortion) The
stroke marking the forehead of the defeated will
ultimately strike victory. Impetuous
virtue: sometimes the universal order Is
hindered certainly What
tumbled down from the Time's arithmatic table rested
in stone bellies With
Death forged on every brick ultimately
it will rise to the dome and
will touch the high skies resembling God's topaz soles. What
you did was your feat What
we did espoused us At
the end of a century We
dedicate back to you What
you had begun. Plucked
unripe? Only
in the lap of the Fortunate falls
the fruit ripened by itself. On
the centenary of 1857 rebellion Translated
from Gujarati by Dileep Jhaveri. Love- Friendship and Humanism In
The Years That Are Remaining Uma
Shankar Joshi In
the years that are remaining, dear, sip heartily The
beauty of the world, do not wander around dejected. From
companionships occasionally acquired along the way Forge
endearing amities. No,
not for you is destined any demonic world. Oh,
you motley world! How to glean you? Naively
I try to alter you and I am changed. Steeped
in the self, down the abyss this step slips. But
if abjuring the self I abide, cordially you comply. This
soft sunlight beckons me, the south breeze, Smiles
of the four directions, glorious peaks of mountains. The
elixir of moonlight in a corner of night condenses on the heart. The
ultimate play of Truth rejoices in the rise and ebb of Mankind. Imbibing
all the love, brimmingly I will declare to the Heavens From
the years allotted to me I bring the nectar of the Earth. Translated
from Gujarati by Dileep Javeri. Love- Friendship Poem from Gitanjali Rabindranath Tagore Light,
oh where is the light? Kindle it with the burning fire of desire! There
is the lamp but never a flicker of a flame,- is such thy fate, my heart!
Ah, death were better by far for thee! Misery
knocks at thy door, and her message is that thy lord is wakeful, and he
calls thee to the love-tryst through the darkness of night. The
sky is overcast with clouds and rain is ceaseless. I know not what this is
that stirs in me,- I know not its meaning. A
moment’s flash of lightning drags down a deeper gloom on my sight, and my
heart gropes for the path to where the music of the night calls me. Light,
oh where is the light! Kindle it with the burning fire of desire! It
thunders and the wind rushes screaming through the void. The night is
black as a black stone. Let not the hours pass by in the dark. Kindle the
lamp of love with thy life. Translated
from Bengali by the author. Love-Devotion Poem
from Gitanjali Rabindranath
Tagore This
is my prayer to thee, my lord- strike,
strike at the root of penury in my heart. Give
me the strength lightly to bear my joys and sorrows. Give
me the strength to make my love fruitful in service. Give
me the strength to raise my mind high above daily trifles. And
give me the strength to surrender. my
strength to thy with love. Translated
from Bengali by the author. Love-Friendship Poem
from Gitanjali Rabindranath
Tagore Light,
my light, the world-filling light, the
eye-kissing light, heart-sweetening light! Ah,
the light dances, my darling, at the centre of
my life; the light strikes, my darling, the
chords of my love; the sky opens, the wind runs
wild, laughter passes over the earth. The
light is shattered into gold on every cloud, my
darling, and it scatters gems in profusion. Translated
from Bengali by the author. Love-Humanism Poem
from Gitanjali Rabindranath
Tagore Let
all the strains of joy mingle in my last song- The
joy that makes the earth flow over in the riotous excess Of
the grass, the joy that sets the twin brothers, life and death, Dancing
over the wide world, the joy that sweeps in with the tempest, Shaking
and waking all life with laughter, the joy that sits still with Its
tears on the open red lotus of pain, and the joy that throws everything it
has upon the dust, and knows not a word. Translated
from Bengali by the author. Love-Devotion Poem
from Gitanjali Rabindranath
Tagore. Thou
art the sky and thou art the nest as well. O
thou beautiful, there in the nest it is thy Love
that encloses the soul with colours and sounds and odours. There
comes the morning with the golden basket in her right hand Bearing
the wreath of beauty, silently to crown the earth. And
there comes the evening over the lonely meadows deserted by the herds,
through trackless paths, carrying cool draughts of peace in her golden
pitcher from the western ocean of rest. But
there, where spreads the infinite sky for the soul to take her flight in,
reigns the stainless white radiance. There is no day or night, nor form
nor colour, and never, never a word. Translated from Bengali by the author. Love-Patriotism May be Victory of My Country! Dr. Hari Dutt Sharma May be victory of my country. Snow made crown adorns its pious forehead It wears the garlands of holy Ganga and Yamuna The ocean cleans its large feet How lovely its costume! May my country get triumph In monsoon the clouds are decorated with lightning In sarad the sky is whitened by the lights of moon and by stars In spring the beauty is created by trees, plants, leaves and flowers Six seasons’ play of joy May my country be victorious Here are poured nectar-currents of Ved-mantras The holy words cover the whole world by beating sounds of drums of Sanskrit and culture it makes humming In India and abroad… May be triumph of my country. Go to light from darkness is the first sound, Here is one and only one religion ‘humanity’, The message of holy ‘Gita’ is carried on head. May my country spread the theory of ‘Karma’ May win my country forever. See, the new sun has risen, It is the first dawn The gentle breeze of culture is blowing softly My country is the sun, spreading its light For ignorant people living in darkness May win my country always. Translated from Sanskrit by Dr. Harshdev Madhav. Love-Humanism O’ Humanity Dr. Hari Dutt Sharma Oh humanity! Start new assault Leave old wretched way You are cheated by casteism, untouchability and colour-prejudice You also walked on bloody earth. Bread the pavilion of war-hatred Because of the differences of Hindu-Muslim-Sikh-Christian religions, Because of the differences of White black-upper-lower castes, Your ancient culture has broken. Oh humanity! Start new revolution. May pour on the world love-cloud’s stream May be the earth be without mud of hatred Have a complete bath in affection pound. Oh humanity! Start new movement. May not be attacked the weak by the strong May not be crushed the poor by the rich There my not any sense of exploiter and exploited May not be any one here wretched and poor May not be any one without food, hut and clothes May not anyone die of hunger. Oh humanity! Start new assault. Materialism is spread all over The world has lost its liveliness Machines destroy self-realization. Oh humanity! Start new evolution. The science became destroyer By bombs and nuclear energy By weapons and poisonous chemical Oh humanity! You are the only one to save ourselves The inner world has lost insight because of outer glamour It doesn’t peep in toits own darkness Please enlight the soul with thy new candle Oh humanity! Start new movement. The People run after the wealth They gain sadness, agony and lamentation. Please bring the people to the height of characters. Oh humanity! Start new revolution. May every heart shine with divine light May every face bloom with the smile of happiness May your glory spread in every direction, Oh humanity! Start new movement. Translated from Sanskrit by Dr. Harshdev Madhav. Love-Tolerance National Unity V. Kutumb Shashtri Endless is the sky, the wind blows everywhere water flows all round the earth, so spreads the rays of the sun The earth is the kind mother. The man is made of Five ‘Mahabhutas’(elements), There is no reason- Why the man makes such self destroying differences? The whole world is pervaded by the God and the Almighty, and has given all things He pertains every soul, whole is subject of all objects He is the idol of mercy If such is the condition- Why may he not answer, called by anyone? If the condition is not such, Then what will happen by His destruction? People divide the land to develop whole parts of it So that the water may flow in upper and lower fields It is the truth; But some people, blind with the Feelings of discrimination carry revenge; What can be done? Indiscriminate people have gone from truth to untruth The ‘Vedas’ and all ‘shrutis’ say that The Ultimate truth is ‘non-duality’ But the fool sees duality, dirty with name and shape According to the ‘Upanishadas’ there is danger in duality, But people find safety in it What can be done? Reverse-sense people has gone from truth to untruth. The devotee of duality experiences that The view of ‘non-duality’ is not inactive, Duality if divider; He-who realizes the non-duality- is the real enjoyer of life. Wrongly are put the various characteristics and qualities Beyond all characteristics and in the cause of whole universe The eternal truth lies, If leaving other vain thing one observes own self One will definitely feel evenmindedness in all beings. When all is full of ‘Brahman’ Where lies the difference? Why does one kills another? Why is envy for others? Thinking logically there must be no discrimination. So it is the best shelter of ‘shastras’ To achieve the unity of nation. When there were more than five hundred kings in this country, There was unity of people joined by the thread of culture and religion; When there is one government, The people are divided by countless differences; So the rule is unable to develop The emotional integrity of the nation, Religion and culture as well as Sanskrit Are the means of harmony Efforts should be done to develop them. In the undeveloped prehistoric age Vedas announce ‘The whole world is a single family’ Now in the time when all physical differences of countries Have been wiped out, Let us achieve the blessings of the Vedas. The people have left the language and knowledge, which have built the bridge between ‘Rameswar and Vishveswar’ Now the language and knowledge are attended upon- Which create many partitions; How is possible the real unity of nation Without integrity? Neither only rule, nor only good conduct, Neither only law nor only wealth Is able for it, But ‘Shastras’ deep study and culture are enough to achieve the unity of nation So let’s follow The religion and culture- let’s know Sanskrit-the divine language which are capable to unify the nation. Translated from Sanskrit by Dr. Harshdev Madhav. Love-Sympathy After an Earthquake Dr. Harshdev Madhav And then cracks were born in my heart also. The summit of my patience was pulled down, my mind torn to pieces The river of sensibility dried and vanished The desires of life became ruins of dreams. My love was buried under the soul-less dead humanity. The Earth can show her tremors but How can I show What is happening under my existence? (On hearing the news of the earth- quake in Maharashtra). Translated from Sanskrit by the author. Love-Patriotism Adoration of the mother Kuntala Kumari Sabat Come, brothers and sisters, be you a Hindu, Muslim, Jain or Buddhist, to the feet of the mother as one soul! Children of Bharat, you are not different from each other. You all have the same anguished mother. You live in the same country, have the same wish the same love and devotion, faith and karma the same happiness, sorrow, peace and salvation. You all have the same anguished mother. Why kill your own brother for petty, selfish reasons, and tarnish the image of your mother with the blood of your brother? You all have the same anguished mother. Singing the high mantra of unity embrace each other as brothers whether friends or strangers, this is the holy land, we the teeming millions of us, as one! Translated from Oriya by Sumanyu Satpathi. Love-Patriotism Freedom Dhani Ram Chatrik Beauty and blessings, Palaces and minarets, Fairs and people The elegant scenes Captivate. But when signs of freedom came All the joy and pain of this charm And love Absorbed in the drive Of independence. Translated from Punjabi by Prof. Swarn Singh. |
