Ten Hindi poems in English: Lakshmi Kant mukul
For the moment
-----------------------------
To them there was
no hut or home
of hemps or birbres
not Nestles
of grassour Moonj
they were no birds
Nor trees or plants
But labourors
returning home with ploughs
At bomb blasts they fall
on the banks of ponds
all flat like did Dead leaves
so as the Fall the brittle that chaings
Oh ! for the moment
had the grants hidden in the sugarcanes
Stopped their guns
they might have turn out
strong winds, breetings rains
or leaves or glassless
had there appeared a blanket of frosts.
On waiting
---------------------
Whenever a tired worker
Comes neaver with heavy loads
No one knows
why does tremble and murmur
the bamboo - bridge
of my village.
{Translated to English by Subedar Singh 'Avanij' in 1995.)
*********"""******
1.
In the days of annihilation
It was a letter-box
Made of iron-sheets
Where just after passing day
I used to go to post
The letters to the names of yours
From the patch of storms
I cleaved and brought a fragment of paper
Begged and brought the flashing pencils
From the Sun-shin
And sitting on the dreary sandy plain
In the days of annihilation
Indulging in writing something
I used to compose charming poems
Those people might haven' t
Burnt down even you
In an evening of that turbulence !
Like my letters
............................
2.
Self-statement
You will see
In a dusky evening
I shall set out for the city,
Not known to anybody
From the gate of a running train
I shall take a jump
And forget my native village
The room, peering through the window
The people won' t be able to find out
Anywhere my halt
Nor will I meet in
The concealment of the mountains
Nor will in the dense lanes of the village,
Swinging in the crib of a river
However much you pierce the Sky,
Full of flying kites
My children, holding the tails of squirrels
Will rummage me forest after forest,
sand bank after sand bank
At the bottom of
The spanful of broad drain
Even in the interfluv, covered with acacia
They will rummage
While the Moon will be shaping round
Flaring every corner of the horizon
Ripening the small flowers of mangoes
The weary feet, returning from cemetery
Will rummage me
I shall put on grandfather's jacket
Look up the rusted adze from somewhere
From the fairytales I shall beg and bring
Windy speed horse
And proceed towards the unseen city
While the morning fog will be
Getting scattered
..........................
3.
It dosen' t pass off
Here the sunfowers had fallen off
Whence these ways take turn
Their lengthy enclosure is viewed
The whizzing-sound of flies echoes in ears
The iron-grips dance in legs
Arranged mind of centuries
Split with a crack
The attrition of components throw away
In its current thousands of centuries,
The vow, taking shape
The incomprehensible map of dusty obsolescence
Passing through these flower-beds
I came to know
Even during this fearful time
Eras of the flowing history doesn' t pass off
Nor do the rivers of notions
The blue sky of dreams nowhere pass off
......................................
Translated into English by-
Kumar nayan
********************
You look in every color
1.
Like white flowers of mudar
You have stepped into my life filled with the filth,
I keep lingering the aroma arising out of your
Velvetty skin like a flying butterfly or a bee,
I keep sniffing the tenderness of the feelings emerging out of your soft touch,
the cross-section of the pooh in your humid eyes,
Your chiming voice casts a big spell on my mind,
whenever there flows a slow breeze in morning during April,
there descends the cascadic moonlight from the sky above,
I temper tantrum to keep our closeness intact
even for a while or a fraction of it.
2.
I am the divine panacea herb
grown at the top of Babhani Hills
baking under the scorching heat of May
I am still alive with a hope
that you will come with the garlands of precipitating clouds
and a single touch of yours will
make the scorched hairs of my body turn green.
3.
The sky within my mind has turned to be blue
like ash of a chimney
and only then you step in
like bloomed blue nasturtium flowers
and after beholding you
the glaciers of my dream
frozen under the harsh worldly conditions
start to melt.
4.
I had seen you first time
clad in yellow presaged saree
like the trunks of the trees are blossomed with the flowers during spring season,
like the fields are full with yellow mustard flowers,
like the gardens filled with yellow lily flowers,
as if the branches of oleander were springing slowly slowly,
after seeing you, your yellowness started to find its place within me
through the doors of my eyes and touched my soul inwardly.
At this juncture of time, I'm standing like a subliminal tree at the bank of a river
you have engrossed me completely,
Your body parts are trembling like the leaves of a plant with the blowing of a wind,
You have touched me piously in and out.
5.
When you apply the Kajal, obtained through
the mild flame of a lamp, onto your eyebrows
your face gets to shine against this contrast of blackness,
within which I try to explore the sweet dreams
although there exists grim darkness of apprehensiveness
yet I end up finding some portion of light in it,
however in very little amount
and with it, I move towards each & every battle of life
without any disruption.
6.
It seems that the rising Sun of dusk
the blooming petals of a rose
have come to standstill position before the ruddiness of your blossomed lips,
even the colours of Gulal can't be compared with it,
the market is overflowed with the dazzling duplicate products,
and that's why I have kept this unique naturality secured for me.
7.
You have mingled with me
like the colour-pairs of a rainbow,
when you softly touch my paining wounds
with the boarders of your Saree's fringe,
I seem to be lost in the world of utopia.
{Translated into English by _ Rajesh Ojha }
Father is vast
Father is immovable like a mountain
It has a slope
And we are Confident to climb it
The vast place is visible from its top
From the vastness I gain exceptional knowledge
It ,not we alone in the earth
There are people more industrious
& brave then us
Father is like in huge tree
Whith many branches , flowers, leaves
It has provided us shave in sun
And encouraged us to be noted in our soil
Father is Deep like sea
The passenger in the boat
Understand its secret
Similarly we used to be on his shoulders
Father is like a deep well
He fills my childhood whith
sweet water of love
From his voice we had a drum beak
That reach the ground
announcing that it's dusk
Father is vast like the sky
I visit him
Like the horizon touching
The earth's tip.
{ This Hindi poem translated into English by Dr. Santosh Alex of Kerala.}
In The Twentytwoeth Century
●●●●●●●◆●●●●●●●●
When smoke filled cities
Overcast the horizon of the village
You won't be able to differentiate
Their kinds
Children will be astonished to know
Stirring all the elements of food
In one tablet
That there burnt many joint cookers in
Mud built houses
People of many generations lived together
In helmets
There were weaving threads of sweet
Attachments of relationships
If someone was sick with sun stroke
All the joys were seized
In Twentytwoeth Century when the world
Will be remaining controlled by new
Technique daily
Families will have been abolished
Measurements of marrige,relatioships
Will have been old
There will be more demand of robot
Than men
Catching hold of the tail of Naino Technique going ahead of paperless
Cashless systems
People will be touching the heights
Of civilization
Then you will be filled with wonder knowing that a river with fresh water
Current flew by the side of this village
And beside that growing vegetables sitting on the narrowed way a farmer poet
Used to write poems full of anger
------Lakshami Kant Mukul
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translated into English by Jagdish Nalin from Ara.
In The First Drops Of Monsoon
●●●●●◆●●●●●
In The First Drops Of Monsoon
The village is getting wet
The ploughed and half ploughed fields
Are getting wet
The river flowing near by is getting wet
The pipal tree standing by the canal side
Is getting wet
Shaking with the blows of the wind
The leaves of 'behaya' and 'hanis'
Are getting wet
The grazing she goats are getting wet
My house surrounded with ruins
Is getting wet
Standing in the corridor along with the
Wind you are getting wet with rain-drops
Coming diagonally
I am coming back to you from the fields
Being drenched
With that very longing to meet
As the trickling drops from the sky
Are restless to touch the rising sweet
Smell of the earth from the dry soil
..----Lakshmikant Mukul
~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Colour Of War
●●●●●●
There are included
Bloodstained rivers
In the colour of war
Gales getting the population slept
In the lap of death
Blowing the dusty sand
Black colour of war
Might still be prevailing
In the heart of Hiroshima
In the sound sleep of night
Might have been dissolved
In darkness
Bags,books,pencils of school going children with their bodies
Might have flown in soil,dust
Having been melted
Greenness,colour of smiling
Faces of people
Illumination filled with
Loud-tinkling laughter
Are not included in the colour of war
Mental glimpses overcast in talks
Are not found in the colours of war
The colour of war is filled in
Dust and blows
Spreading with the blast of
Man-made chemical gunpowder
all around towards the desert
Where there is no trace of
Any oasis to be secured to distant places
---Lakshmikant Mukul
%%%%%%$%%%%%%
Translated into English by---
Jagdish Nalin
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