Thursday, May 20, 2021

ಸಾಗರ, ಮಾನವ - SAAGARA, MAANAVA - ANNA SWIRSZCZYNSKA'S 'THE SEA AND THE MAN'

ಮೂಲTHE SEA AND THE MAN 

ಕವಿನ್ನಾ ಶ್ವೆರ್‌ಚಿನ್ಸ್‌ಕಾ  ANNA SWIRSZCZYNSKA, Poland 

Translated from the Polish into English by Czeslaw Milosz and Leonard Nathan

ಕನ್ನಡಕ್ಕೆಸ್ ಜಯಶ್ರೀನಿವಾಸ ರಾವ್

 

ಸಾಗರ, ಮಾನವ

 

ನೀನು ಈ ಸಾಗರವನ್ನು

ವಿನಯದಿಂದ ಯಾ ಆವೇಶದಿಂದ

ದಮನಿಸಲಾರೆ.

ದರೆ ನೀನು ಅದರ

ಮುಖಕ್ಕೆ ನಕ್ಕುಬಿಡಬಹುದು.

 

ಒಂದು ನಗೆಸ್ಫೋಟದಂತೆ

ಅಲ್ಪಕಾಲ ಜೀವಿಸುವವರೇ

ನಗೆಯನ್ನು

ಸಷ್ಟಿಸಿದವರು.

 

ಆ ಅನಂತ ಸಾಗರ

ಎಂದೂ ನಗಲು ಕಲಿಯದು.

***



THE SEA AND THE MAN

 

You will not tame this sea
either by humility or rapture.
But you can laugh
in its face.

Laughter
was invented by those
who live briefly
as a burst of laughter.

The eternal sea
will never learn to laugh.


***

Monday, May 17, 2021

ONCE IN THE PAST I WAS A WOMAN - RENUKA RAMANANDA'S 'HINDOMME NAANU HENNAGIDDE' ಹಿಂದೊಮ್ಮೆ ನಾನು ಹೆಣ್ಣಾಗಿದ್ದೆ

Here is my English translation of Renuka Ramanand's poem ಹಿಂದೊಮ್ಮೆ ನಾನು ಹೆಣ್ಣಾಗಿದ್ದೆ 'hindomme naanu heNNaagidde' ... a powerful poem suffused with pain, anger, despair, and also offering hope. Renuka Ramanand is a poet with a strong voice, that is at once commanding and empathetic. I have been reading her articles in Avadhi and now have read her poems. Her collection MEENUPETEYA TIRUVU ಮೀನುಪೇಟೆಯ ತಿರುವು has poems that take their subjects from everyday life and take them to a different level. When I selected this poem and was putting together my English translation, I constantly felt I may have taken on more that I can handle. I do not know if I have done justice to the poem and more than that, to the poetic voice. Thank you Renuka, for giving me permission to translate your poem. Here it is, ONCE IN THE PAST I WAS A WOMAN ...  

 

Kannada original: ಹಿಂದೊಮ್ಮೆ ನಾನು ಹೆಣ್ಣಾಗಿದ್ದೆ hindomme naanu heNNaagidde

Poet: Renuka Ramananda ರೇಣುಕಾ ರಮಾನಂದ

Translated into English by S. Jayasrinivasa Rao

 

ONCE IN THE PAST I WAS A WOMAN

 

Once in the past 

when I was born a woman

I was jumping from fire 

into frying pan

and again into fire

I was following in the 

centuries’-old tradition 

children who had left for foreign lands 

I wanted to fill my eyes 

for the last time

they weren’t there  

I hid my sighs 

my consumptive chest aiding

I coughed and coughed and 

choked and died

 

A woman is simply a woman

why do you needlessly bother

your heads with religion

you don’t allow cracked heels to heal

you wield the naked axe of constant fear

it’s the birth-right of all religions

to make women toil

 

Burkhas gowns

sarees of varied hues

hide our 

dry coughs, our infections

our flood-havoc-like monthly discharges

we are mothers to their children 

with our hanging bellies

and above them 

our sagging breasts

 

But now?

I am a beautiful tree

my solitary nakedness

spreads across to the ends of this world

fanning out to lands open and sheltered

I stand

 

When firemaidens with fistfuls of

burning seeds in their bodies

started coming to hide behind 

my rough trunk to shed a few tears

I stopped offering shade

to vile caste-born goons

I have learnt black-magic

to blast them into a million shreds

before their coarseness would touch me

 

ha ... ha ... ha ...

I was cremated

I was buried

these death-mongering men

couldn’t stop me from

becoming a beautiful tree 

 

“Plants don’t walk ”

children learn this day in and day out

Listen now –

Once upon a time in the past I was 

grandmother or great grandmother 

to all of you

I buried my simmering sobs 

deep in the burning coals and

coughed and coughed and died

 

Science doesn’t teach

transmigration in schools

 

But I remember clearly

once upon a time in the past

I was a woman

 

From the fire into the frying pan

from the frying pan into the fire

I was jumping

 

Now

I am a 

beautiful tree

 

*****



Sunday, May 16, 2021

ಸುಟ್ಟ ಕಾಗದದ ಚೂರುಗಳು - SUTTA KAGADADA CHOORUGALU - RYSZARD KRYNICKI'S 'SCRAPS OF BURNT PAPER'

ಮೂಲ: SCRAPS OF BURNT PAPER 

ಕವಿರಿಶಾರ್ಡ ಕ್ರಿನಿತ್‌ಸ್ಕಿ RYSZARD KRYNICKI, Poland 

Translated from the Polish into English by ALYSSA VALLES

ಕನ್ನಡಕ್ಕೆಸ್ ಜಯಶ್ರೀನಿವಾಸ ರಾವ್

 

ಸುಟ್ಟ ಕಾಗದದ ಚೂರುಗಳು

 

ಸುಟ್ಟ ಕಾಗದದ ಆಕಾಶಕಾಯಗಳು

ರಸ್ತೆಯಲ್ಲಿ ಬೀಳುತ್ತಲಿವೆ:

 

ಕೆಲವೇ ವರ್ಷಗಳ ಅಥವಾ ಕೆಲವು ಸಾವಿರ ವರ್ಷಗಳ ಹಿಂದೆ

ನೀವು ಯೋಚಿಸಿರಬಹುದು

ಸ್ವರ್ಗವೂ ಕೂಡ ಸ್ಥಳದ ಅಭಾವದಿಂದ ಒದ್ದಾಡುತ್ತಿದೆ

ಹಾಗೆಯೇ, ಅದು ಆಗಿಂದಾಗ,

ಈ ಭೂಮಿಯಲ್ಲಿ ಆದಿಯಿಂದ ನಡೆದಾಡಿದ 

ಪ್ರತಿಯೊಬ್ಬರ ಪ್ರತಿಯೊಂದು ಕೃತ್ಯವನ್ನು 

ದಾಖಲಿಸಿರುವ ಕಡತಗಳನ್ನು

ಸುಡುತ್ತದೆ;

 

ಈಗ ನಿಮಗನಿಸುವುದನ್ನು

ನೀವು ಹಣೆಬರಹವೆಂದೋ ಅಥವಾ

ನಂಬಿಕೆಯ ಅಭಾವವೆಂದೋ ಕರೆಯಲಾಗದು.

 

*****


Friday, May 14, 2021

GULMOHAR - GANGADHARA CHITTAL'S 'GULMOHAR' ಗುಲ್‌ಮೊಹರ್

Kannada original: ಗುಲ್‌ಮೊಹರ್ Gulmohar 

Poet: Gangadhara Chittal ಗಂಗಾಧರ ಚಿತ್ತಾಲ

Translated into English by S. Jayasrinivasa Rao


 

GULMOHAR

 

-1-

 

For thirty years and more, it has been standing,

this Gulmohar near the gate, in the same place.

The same rough-tough trunk, 

the same branch curves,

the same dance-yielding tri-bent pose, 

the taut roots deep down

in search of nourishment from the soil.

When a child, I would hide 

among its leaves for hours,

around me deep green light would 

drip in the verdant shade,

the happy caress of its bark at every move,

lend your ears to hear the delightful hustle-bustle 

of its life-sap coursing up and down its veins,

at every site, bursting shoots,

unfurling leaves, blooming flowers – 

endeavours eternal and eternally new, 

a touch of summer’s warmth is enough,

a riot of colour spring gorgeously on its branches,

the heady melody of golden red flowers!

What friendship is this, that this young lad has 

with this faceless, voiceless tree?

 

-2-

 

For thirty years and more, it has been standing,

this Gulmohar, in the same place.

Standing straight, offering itself

to the periodic beats of chills, winds, rains, and sun.

I, on the other hand, 

on a new dawn, got up and left,

to conquer new lands,

my first steps, I bounced along 

gaily to chimes of anklets,

shortly, I reached the summit and ruled

but as days passed,

frequent weather changes,

drinking different waters, 

and breathing different airs,

losing myself in twisted lanes and jagged corners,

hurdles mounting at every turn,

all bonds and links falling apart,

shattered dreams, weakened limbs,

I stumbled, somehow grabbed myself by the skin,

I limped, I scrambled,

thirty years later, I have returned

desiring the company of my childhood friend,

standing here in despair

under its golden-red laden branches

comparing my misfortune

with its serene large-heartedness

in steadfast rootedness!

 

*****




Monday, May 10, 2021

ಒಂದು ಖಾಲಿ ‌ಫ಼್ಲಾಟಿನಲ್ಲಿ ಬೆಕ್ಕು - ONDU KHALI FLAT-INALLI BEKKU - WISLAWA SZYMBORSKA'S 'CAT IN AN EMPTY APARTMENT'

ಮೂಲKot w pustym mieszkaniu (ಪೋಲಿಷ್

ಕವಿವೀಸ್ವಾವ ಶಿಂಬೋರ್ಸ್ಕ Wisława Szymborska, Poland 

ಇಂಗ್ಲಿಷ್ ಗೆ: Stanizław Barańczak and Clare Cavanagh 

CAT IN AN EMPTY APARTMENT 

ಕನ್ನಡಕ್ಕೆಎಸ್ ಜಯಶ್ರೀನಿವಾಸ ರಾವ್

 

ಒಂದು ಖಾಲಿ ‌ಫ಼್ಲಾಟಿನಲ್ಲಿ ಬೆಕ್ಕು

 

ಸಾಯುವುದು – ಒಂದು ಬೆಕ್ಕಿಗೆ ನೀನು ಹಾಗೆ ಮಾಡಬಾರದು.

ಒಂದು ಖಾಲಿ ಫ಼್ಲಾಟಿನಲ್ಲಿ ಒಂದು ಬೆಕ್ಕು

ಏನು ತಾನೆ ಮಾಡಬಲ್ಲದು?

ಗೋಡೆ ಹತ್ತುತ್ತದೆಯೇ?

ಮೆಜು ಕುರ್ಚಿಗಳಿಗೆ ಮೈಯೊರೆಸಿಕೊಳ್ಳುತ್ತದೆಯೇ?

ಇಲ್ಲಿ ಯಾವುದೂ ಬೇರೆಯಾಗಿ ಕಾಣುವುದಿಲ್ಲ,

ಆದರೆ ಯಾವುದೂ ಇದ್ದಂತೆ ಇಲ್ಲ.

ಯಾವುದನ್ನೂ ಜರುಗಿಸಿದಂತೆ ಇಲ್ಲ,

ಆದರೆ ಜಾಗ ಹೆಚ್ಚಾದಂತೆ ಇದೆ.

ಮತ್ತೆ ರಾತ್ರಿಯಲಿ ದೀಪಗಳಾವನ್ನೂ ಹೊತ್ತಿಸಲಾಗುವುದಿಲ್ಲ. 

 

ಮೆಟ್ಟಲುಗಳ ಮೇಲೆ ಕಾಲ್ಸಪ್ಪಳ

ಆದರೆ ಅವು ಹೊಸ ಕಾಲ್ಸಪ್ಪಳ

ಸಾಸರಿನಲ್ಲಿ ಮೀನನ್ನಿಡುವ ಕೈ,

ಅದೂ ಕೂಡ ಬದಲಾಗಿದೆ.

 

ಯಾವುದೊಂದು ಅದರ ಎಂದಿನ 

ಸಮಯಕ್ಕೆ ಶುರುವಾಗುತ್ತಿಲ್ಲ

ಯಾವುದೊಂದು ಆಗಬೇಕಾದ 

ಹಾಗೆ ಆಗುತ್ತಿಲ್ಲ

ಯಾವನೊಬ್ಬ ಯಾವಾಗಲೂ, ಯಾವಾಗಲೂ ಇರುತ್ತಿದ್ದನಿಲ್ಲಿ

ಅಚಾನಕ್ಕಾಗಿ ಮಾಯವಾದನು

ಹಠಹಿಡಿದು ಮಾಯವಾಗಿಯೇ ಇದ್ದಾನೆ

 

ಪ್ರತಿಯೊಂದು ಬೀರೋವನ್ನು ಪರೀಕ್ಷಿಸಲಾಗಿದೆ

ಪ್ರತಿಯೊಂದು ಶೆಲ್ಫ಼ನ್ನು ಪರಿಶೀಲಿಸಲಾಗಿದೆ

ಕಾರ್ಪೆಟ್ಟಿನಡಿಯ ಪರಿಶೋಧನೆಯಲ್ಲೂ ಏನೂ ದೊರಕಿಲ್ಲ 

ಕಟ್ಟಳೆಯೊಂದನ್ನು ಕೂಡ ಮುರಿಯಲಾಗಿದೆ,

ಎಲ್ಲೆಲ್ಲೂ ಚದುರಿದ ಕಾಗದ.

ನು ಮಾಡಲು ಉಳಿದಿದೆ ಈಗ.

ನಿದ್ರಿಸುವುದು, ಕಾಯುವುದು, ಅಷ್ಟೇ.

 

ಅವನು ತಿರುಗಿ ಬರುವವರೆಗೂ ಕಾಯಬೇಕು 

ಅವನು ಮುಖವನ್ನೊಮ್ಮೆ ತೋರಿಸಲಿ ಸಾಕು

ಒಂದು ಬೆಕ್ಕಿಗೆ ಏನು ಮಾಡಬಾರದೆಂಬ

ಪಾಠವನ್ನೆಂದಾದರೂ ಪಡೆಯುವನೇ ಅವನು.

 

ಮೆಲ್ಲಗೆ ಸರಿದು ಹೋಗು ಅವನತ್ತ

ಇಷ್ಟವಿಲ್ಲದಂತೆ

ಮೆಲ್ಲ ಮೆಲ್ಲಗೆ, ಅತೀ ಮೆಲ್ಲಗೆ

ಮನನೊಂದ ಪಂಜಗಳ ಹೆಜ್ಜೆಯಿಟ್ಟು

ನೋಡು ಮತ್ತೆ, ಹಾರುವುದು, ಚೀರುವುದು, 

ಕಡೇಪಕ್ಷ ಆರಂಭದಲ್ಲಿ ಬೇಡ.

*****


Tuesday, May 4, 2021

AN ANCIENT DREAM - MOULYA SWAMI'S 'ONDU PURAATANA KANASU' ಒಂದು ಪುರಾತನ ಕನಸು

Kannada original: ಒಂದು ಪುರಾತನ ಕನಸು Ondu Puraatana Kanasu 

Poet: MOULYA SWAMI ಮೌಲ್ಯ ಸ್ವಾಮಿ

Translated into English by S. Jayasrinivasa Rao

 

AN ANCIENT DREAM

 

If possible

part this spider-woven 

screen aside

step over the wooden doors

weakened by

warming and waiting

and see once,

an ancient dream dwells there

 

If possible

press your palm

on its calloused heart

a tune may have been

stuck there haphazardly

in a space where 

breaths cannot escape

 

Flaunting half a decade’s account

you project much respectability 

on the memory-board of 

wooden-faced time

only the fallen numbers count

if possible do count and see

 

An ancient dream dwells there

you are told 

all kinds of proofs are proffered 

you don’t look back

the last spark of the lamp

waiting eternally for 

the last blast of a sigh

despatches the same message

the one who rose and left

was the Buddha

in people’s hearts

secretly lives Yashodhara

who stayed behind

 

Hand-held by

leaping hallucinations

I will come to where you are

keep this in mind

at the edge of the world’s memory

one who has remained undefeated

is Yashodhara

your Yashodhara 

 

*****

Monday, May 3, 2021

STONE PAVILION - SUBRAYA CHOKKADY'S 'KALLU MANTAPA' ಕಲ್ಲು ಮಂಟಪ

Kannada original: ಕಲ್ಲು ಮಂಟಪ Kallu Mantapa 

Poet: SUBRAYA CHOKKADY ಸುಬ್ರಾಯ ಚೊಕ್ಕಾಡಿ

Translated into English by S. Jayasrinivasa Rao

 

STONE PAVILION 

 

Atop a lofty bare hill

a stone pavilion

stands alone

Gommata*-like

has cast away all,

oblivious to the world, facing

the serene sky,

lost in contemplation.

 

The breeze too is lying low

too shy to glide and blow

 

Below, far down below

at the fount,

flora, flowing streams,

fauna,

all quiet

apparently asleep

 

the sage who lived long ago

his meditative aura

has likely clung to 

the pillars, the roof.  In that zone

as things are at a standstill

as if the stone pavilion itself

has become the sage

it is on the path to being what

it is contemplating on

 

From the sky a shining light

is coming closer.

 

*****

 

*Gommata refers to the monolithic statue of the naked Bahubali in a standing posture, also known as Gomateshwara, mainly in Shravanabelagola, and also in four other places in Karnataka.  Bahubali was one of the sons of Rishabhanatha, the first Jain tirthankara.  He challenged his brother Bharata on his claim to his Kingdom and after defeating Bharata, Bahubali was filled with disgust at the world.  He cast away all his possessions, his kingdom, wealth, and even his clothes, to become a monk and began meditating with great resolve to attain omniscience.  He is said to have meditated standing unclothed and motionless for a year and as per Jain texts, he was one of the first Digambara monks to have attained moksha in the present half-cycle of time. 


[more can be read here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bahubali]




ಮೃತ್ಯುವಿಗೆ: ರೆಕ್ವಿಯೆಮ್ ೮ - ANNA AKHMATOVA's 'TO DEATH - REQUIEM 8'

ಮೂಲ:  TO DEATH:  REQUIEM Poem  8 ಕವಿ: ಅನಾ ಅಖ್ಮತೊವಾ, ರಶಿಯಾ  ANNA AKHMATOVA, RUSSIA Translated from the Russian by  Lenore Mayhew and William ...