Saiyan nu milan de aas ae menu,
More saiyan na aave.
Raah takdi akhan bhar aayi ne,
Par khabran koi na laave.
Chann de mukh te rang udaas ae,
Raat vi ruldi jaave.
Dil di har taan udeek di ae,
Par more saiyan na aave.
Sawere di laali bhar aayi ae,
Par umeed di baat na bhaave.
Jadon di keh ke gaya ae challan,
Odo kad na vapas aave.
Janid betha rahan takda deedar de intezar vich,
Sara des te lata waps, sada yaar ya aave.
Take to arms, who will come ye to save?
What hope from face-less faces ye have?
Never plead, nor for them ever rave,
From shameless what succour can ye crave?
Take to arms, none will come ye to save.
________________________________
Translation |06.09.2024| women, world
Poet’s note: This is third in the three-piece series on the theme. The incidence is taken from Mahabharata during Draupadi’s vastra-haran, disrobing. All the elderly so-called keepers of dharma keep quiet in the name of righteous action under the circumstances. The original in Gujarati as transliterated (in PS-acceptable way) is as under:
Suno Daraupadi, shastra uthaalo, ab naa Givind aayenge,
Kab tak aas lagaaohi tum bike hue akhabaaro se,
Kaisee rakshaa maang rahi ho Duhshaasaan darbaaro se?
Svayam jo lajjaa heen pade hai vo kyaa laaj bachaayenge!
Suno Daraupadi, shastra uthaalo, ab naa Givind aayenge.
- Pushyamitra Upadhyay
Ewe aare my everything, my dear daarling.
I will protect ewe from the wolf's snaarling.
My love for ewe will burst against my heaart
when ewe aare out of sight and we're apaart.
Ewe sing in titillaating baaaritone.
I blush thinking of our being aalone.
Ewe bring a certain je ne saais quoi
whenever I feel the need to aannoy.
And when I put mint jelly on ewer raack,
you will know for sure that I haave your baack.
Notaably when ewe grace my Shepherd's Pie,
Ewe fill my lunch plate aas well aas my eye.
N maang uthi dhadkan se ab ki
Tinake-tinake se mai bhaaguu
Bache huye is rang manch me
Doobi palake sahil si baantuu
Roti khushiya khusabuu si seenchu
Tukado-tukado me mai saans sametuu...
Phir bhi maula mere....
De De Mujhako
Jeevan bhar me aansuu..
Bache huye is tam pal me
Kone-kone ambar se bhar duu
Krandan shapit saari duniya
Ban baaris hr pyaase man me aas bikheruu...
Phir bhi maula mere...
De de mujhako
Jeevan bhar me aansuu...........
By.. AMIT SHUKLA
Bright
Sun
Shining
Birds chirping
I swallow hard and
Raise my glass up to honor you
You left this world too soon, my heart is left chasing you
In loving memory of A.A.S.
3-13-15
Fibonacci
For poetry contest Sponsor rob carmack
I can't feel the bruises being formed anymore;
It feels as though he will never be finished,
but he knows I can take no more,
lying on the floor completely diminished.
I look at the stranger in the mirror,
hating the only things I can see.
If only my sight and mind were clearer...
maybe I would know what i should be.
Going back to the hell I once called home...
nothing seems to help, nothing can heal...
standing straight and still aas a gnome,
I begin to let myself and my shell peel....
Shedding off all the pain of Hell,
I no longer await the sweet sound, the chiming bell....
Drivel
dribbled from those lips of ours
while climbing streets and chasing cars
peeling back our velum skin
removing duty, tasks again.
Drivel
trickled from our sanguine lips
reddened by a vibrant sun
infinite, treasured, playful trips
of youth perfected, minds begun.
Drivel
fueled creativity in our veins
more effective than any lecture
more durable than the double AAs
powering flashlights at bedtime.
Drivel
was never
just
Drivel.