Best Tamil Poems
The peacocks dance
at grove near the cool pond;
and the lotuses brace
lamps like raised heads;
Nimbus clouds thrum
like loud drums;
and violet lilies scrutinize
the scene with bulbous eyes;
Hushed wavelets
array like curtains;
and the bees harmonize sweet songs,
like soothing tunes of (fish-shaped) harp;
Amidst this picturesque place,
the MARUDHAM is enthroned
*Marudham- The God of fertile land
The old Tamil literature describes the five species of lands,
kurunji-mountain land
marudam-cultivated land/farm land
mullai- forest land
neydal-beach/maritime tract
paalai- desert
This is my translation of a poem from Kamba Ramayanam
Kamba Ramayanam, is a Tamil epic that was written by the Tamil poet Kambar during the 12th century. Based on Valmiki's Ramayana (which is in Sanskrit), the story describes the life of King Rama.
Part Two
SEVEN STARK WORDS
Seven alliterative blockbuster words struck so
they rhymed initially in juxta-positioning lineal parallels
pausing but in the fourth
to resume breath in the fifth
Leaving the interstitial morphemes in resonating ellipses
The economy of your parsing has wreaked havoc down the ages
in all trans-explicatory tongues
Tough-minded men come from afar
with other gods to serve
and sacrifices to make in the name of their Lords
bent your versification to limp rhyme
and left meaning a hung pursuit
in the hands of plagiarists professors preachers
who
not knowing nor divining the reason for your craftsman’s
concatenation of weighted phonemes
advanced theories for your elastic pregnant mind
strung myriads of pages in exegeses
each staking a claim to posterity
the villainous hanging on your lips
In a time devoid of papered learning for the poor
When to be born a Sudra or Pariah was a sin
When masters were those top-heavy manically-mantric Brahmin priests
Preying on the duped loyal sycophantic Vaishyas
wishing to earn karmic merit with their agricultural gain at their altar feet
such servant-financers as they by legions now lay their souls down
as even the long-gone royally leisure-dispensing Kshaktriyas
how would he who sought the spread of knowledge
not seek to encapsulate learning in mnemonic couplets
arranged according to rigid design
for those who could not count either
Ten fingers in the hand so
Ten the number of facets of a thought
a subject
a theme
even if theme subject thought were stretched too thin
a grab-and-run pack
a small survival sack
with one set of clothes for spouse and self
passports, a file with just few mails
an old diary with addresses to contact
in England, Finland, and Switzerland
and some currency notes
couple of thousands
in rupees that does not stretch
like the American dollars
they were what i needed most
as the pogrom was in progress
in my Tamil homeland
while i always went to bed
with shoes on my feet
While I was searching a book to read in my old school
Today maybe changed somehow modernized,
There were lot of rooms,
With many of the destitute instant of books.
Anyway, however, I was swerved..
This is my own school why should I hesitate…
The swot ..like swingle …
You’re my SCHOOL.. Swivelled on you
Who could have changed you like this…?
Distorted…
I am completely distracted..
At least the basement may be kept..
I went on to search into, the basement
My goodness, my school, everything distorted…
.. recasted ..
My sweet heaven you distorted, I am distracted..
I want to see the smile of the portia’s yellow flower..
Where is the doorway? And door steps of margosa?
The premises, the sun kissing ground..
All for me unseen world?
There is suddenly landslide:
Divination , there is my teacher pulling me out, digging
The landslide that covered me, the teacher with a mammoty
I identified first teacher ever remembering.
Now the light, my teacher…!
Pursuit smile ..national uniform in white,
How sweet he is…
I live in a city of a Indian state
where you can discern refreshing greeneries, that accommodate
the kingfishers,Rollers,peacocks,snakes and white cranes
Although rice is the major crop,black lentils,sugar canes
corns,sunflowers and groundnuts are the seasonal crops
Since it is a rainfed area,the agriculture rely on rain drops
Pongal,the three days festival is celebrated in mid-January
for the year harvest,as a thank giving ceremony
The Brihadeeswara temple,inscribed on list of world heritage
along with airavateswara temple,surviving 1000 ages
have convoluted stone carvings and intricate sculptures
reveal our ancient cultures and they are our treasures
I am talking about the beautiful city
Even though it is a city,people's behavior
pretend you to feel like an unrivaled village
The people are more generous and obliging
No religious gap among us,Christians go to mosques
Hindus to churches,Muslims to temples,we are unique
People came from different regions and communities
Nayaks,sauarashtras,marathas savvy the value of unity
and we are living examples of unity in diversity
we follow all the traditions without ambiguity
Tamil is our official language,the name
of city reveals the unvarnished fame
Limerick crochetés: Once Tamil Promotion Director
Once Tamil Promotion Director
Excised wise Japanese co-founder
Called him names like rogue thief
Set himself up as Chief
All Dravidian Tamil Editor
He posed as the Royal Ancestor
Even of the Chola* Emperor
Slave-drove workers in fief
Used savants make belief
Such the Tamil Highness Publisher
He caged talents the Money-Maker
Poised as Conference Organiser
Preyed on Buddhist belief
On Chan and Zen mischief
To lard his own family bunker
Ideas he plucked from the Other
Made as if he put up with bother
Tamils to lead as Chief
No matter what the grief
None see his pen as plagiariser
All helpers rough-rode he the Miser
Shed them shorn one after the other
Damn not this common thief
Just his penchant for Chief
For Tamil knowledge made he Server
[* The Chola dynasty (among other South-Indian reigns) of the 10th to 12th centuries C.E. extended Tamil culture and civilization over the better part of Sri Lanka and Southeast Asia without having recourse primarily to conquests and/or of maintaining colonies.]
© T. Wignesan - Paris, 2017
Part One
“The Kurral owes much of its popularity to its exquisite poetic form. A kurral is a couplet containing a complete and striking idea expressed in a refined and intricate metre. No translation can convey an idea of its charming effect. […] The brevity rendered necessary by the form [composed in the Venpa metre] gives an oracular effect to the utterances of the great Tamil ‘Master of the sentences.’ They are the choicest of moral epigrams. […] Tiruvalluvar is generally very simple, and his commentators very profound.”
Rev. G.U. Pope, Former Fellow of Madras University
[Pardon these futile measly words from your great Potiya height: they can hardly belittle your true worth.]
Under what leaky hutment roof by stamped-mud floors
trembling clair-oscuro straw-wick kuttuvilakku
on the stark anvil of crisp phrase and sparse syntax
by the raging nama-nir rhyming brine
at Mayilapur’s S.Thomé sandy doors
while peacocks danced to your innate pulsating chimes
have you chipped away at uncut gems
Those the Yavanas brought with the monsoons
or such as your sea-daring captain friend Elela-Cinkan’s
Even those the Christian missionaries preached
in daredevil enticement
after St.Thomas fell to a vel stuck in his bosom
or of those like you who were stamped underfoot
Caste in cast-iron strictures
Priest only to the proclaimer paraiyar drum-beaters
The warp and woof of intricately woven venpa verse
elevating your weaving clan to fresh artistic heights
YET
in the humbled ways of your birth
on whose steps have you pitched your ears
whose wisdom have you had to pilfer
filter
whose ways have you had to ape
whose mere thoughts have you then had to set aright
ennoble
and remould into inextinguishable lines
Or had you tread the ahimsa path of gentle-foot Jains
Treading gently the earth for fear of loping boot pains
(Continued in Part Two)
His brain’s barren like
the surface
of the moon – alphabet
could never
grow there. I fill up the
money order
form at his request. Our
tongues are
diverse –doesn’t matter –
necessity fumbles
and finds its way. He’s
one of the
inter-state coolies sweating
for our state.
I decode the signals from
his mind –
he’s soft within a hard shell
like a coconut.
He stares at the strange
words falling
from my nib. He rewards
me with a
smile like a cashew nut.
His ‘thanks’
drops into my mind, and
makes a sweet
ripple. It’s an illiterate, who
truly values letters.
(Tamil Nadu and Kerala are neighboring
states with different mother tongues in India.)
It was an tiny eye that pour a plenty of..
..Everything
The innocent young boy in the street of war.
ever since before
Yes, I am not aware about Universe
reality of infinity.
But I am a foolish scientist,
Searching for a long,
Researching under the microscope in vain,
Solutions for the difficulties singe to the sinew.
While looking around where I could go to escape.
The rotations of thoughts are like the particles of milk way..
Infinity!!!!!!!
Since the glance of loving eye has poured in me everything.
Oh!
Reality very near to me..
The dimension of love is infinity
Where the everlasting peace is being dwelling.
Now I am looking only the eyes of you..
Show your love give the daily bread.
On Praising Ladies on their Qualities in the THIRUK-KURAL: Canto 112, Nalam Punainthu Uraiththal, K1114 and K1120
[Please see "introduction on the plight of young girls" in the previous post on this Canto 112: K1111 and K1113, and please note that they were (and are still from all accounts though less frequently) given in marriage by parents who pay DOWRY in the form of cash and property to the bridegroom, despite the fact that the law frowns on such practices since Independence.]
K1114: kaanin kuvalai kavilnthu nilan nOkkum
maanilai kanovvEm enru
The lotus*, seeing her, with head demiss, the ground would eye,
And say: ' With eyes of her, rich gems who wears, we cannot vie.' (Transl. G.U. Pope)
If the blue lotus* could see, it would stoop and look at the ground saying, 'I can never resemble the eyes of this excellent jewelled one.' (Transl Drew & Lazarus)
Should the water-lily* be confronted by the resplendent gem-decked maiden, it would droop down, eyes downcast, thinking the comparison futile. (Transl. T. Wignesan)
K1120: anichcham* annaththin thuuviyam* maathar
adikku neruñchip* palam
The flower of the sensitive plant, and the down of the swan's white breast,
As the thorn are harsh, by the delicate feet of this maiden pressed. (Transl. G.U. Pope)
The anichcham and the feathers of the swan are to the feet of females, like the fruit of the (thorny) Nerunji*. (Transl. Drew & Lazarus)
(Such the beauteous form of the maiden) that even the anichcham* and the swan's downy fur* are but caltrope thistle* thorns pressed on her feet. (Transl. T. Wignesan)
[* Here the use of imagery drawn from nature (flower, bird, plant, fruit), supposed to be ethereally delicate evoke poetic effusion (to the Tamils of yore), offset by their relegation to thorns by comparison to the maiden's feet.] T. Wignesan
© T. Wignesan - Paris, 2017
Stepping down from the AC coach
on to the railway platform
A hot wave of salty moist air
drenches me
On my customary visit
to this city I'm tethered to
by my memories..
She coyly calls herself Chennai
like a new bride renamed
in her husband's home
At heart though she is still Madras
and to the likes of me ;
It's a relief to slip into my mother tongue
to bargain with the auto walla
after mouthing words for months together
in an alien tongue..
We slice through the dense traffic
As I nod distractedly
to the driver's political soliloquy
While my eyes search for familiar landmarks
that were part of my youth
Moore market
Poppat Jamal
Saphire theatre
Gemini flyover;
the city rushes by
a phantasmagoria of urban scenes
until the fragrance of panneer roses
attack my nostrils
as I watch flower sellers
deftly spinning silver threads
around thick rose garlands...
The milling crowd at Pondy Bazaar
with women shopping tirelessly
for jewels, sarees and utensils..
Saravana bhavan coming to the rescue
of their cravings
for sambhar vada or bhelpuri....
I quickly make a mental list
of goods to take back when I return--
Coffee powder
baby mangoes
mor milagai
ambika appalam
not to forget
a visit to the Naidu Hall..
The bottle neck at Panagal park
a hub for matrimonial shopping
slows down my journey,
then a familiar slide down
the doraiswamy subway
and a furlong along the railway tracks
I alight in mambalam
where my mother awaits with open arms;
A week's time for me
to imbibe the city's moods..
to gaze at cawing ravens on neem trees
to discuss the story line of soaps on TV
to inhale the simple aromas of brahmin meals
Before I bid farewell to it temporarily
udan pirappe,
ezhathil neeyum, tamil naatil naanum
avathi padukindrai nee,
vedhanai en nenjil nanba
naan unnai paarthathilai.
mozhiyal ondranom,
vazhkai veruthan, aanal
un kanil kanner, en kanathil odukinrathey!
enna aaruthal solven nanba?
un kannerai kaanum naan
onrum seiyamudiyavillaye
vetkapaduvatha, vethanai paduvatha?
THIRUK-KURAL on not offending the Great*: Periyaaraip Pilaiyaamai - Canto 90, K899 and K900
[* The "Great" here are indifferently the King or other learned and wise people whom the King ought to respect and fear. In this canto, Thiru-Valluvar repeats himself (though elegantly, cf. K899 & K900) - unless it were for the purpose of reinforcing the idea of the weak who dare pit themselves against the strong and powerful - and contrariwise the strong and cruel meet the same fate of ruin if they incurred the wrath of the noble and virtuous-minded. It is evident nothing anti-authoritarian was permitted or conceivable in his time. Yet, reflect on how Lenin outlived the Tsars; Solzhenytsin and Pasternak - Stalin and his successors, just as George Washington - the British Imperial Crown; Vietnam veterans - Nixon; Li Xiaobo - thanks to the Nobel Committee and other campaigners like Human Rights Watch and Amnesty International who would shut an eye to wanton persecution within Western democracies - Xi of the Peoples Republic; the German Jews - Hitler; but NOT the one-man (Sri Lankan) opposition leader Jeyaretnam in Lee Kuan Yew's Singapore.]
K899: eenthiya kolkaiyaar siirin idaimurinththu
veenthanum veenthu kedum
When blazes forth the wrath of men of lofty fame,
Kings even fall from high estate and perish in the flame. (Transl. G.U. Pope)
If those of exalted vows burst in a rage, even (Indra) the king will suffer a sudden loss and be entirely ruined. (Transl. Drew & Lazarus)
Should the virtuous in lofty positions become angry, even the king (of kings) will fall from high heaven. (Transl. T. Wignesan)
K900: iranthuamaintha saarpudaiyar aayinum uyyaar
siranththuamaintha siiraar cherin
Though all-surpassing wealth of aid the boast,
If men in glorious virtue great are wrath, they're lost. (Transl. G.U. Pope)
Though in possession of numerous auxiliaries, they will perish who are exposed to the wrath of the noble whose penance is boundless. (Transl. Drew & Lazarus)
No way the powerful can avoid downfall should they offend and incur the wrath of the noble-minded greats. (Transl. T. Wignesan)
© T. Wignesan - Paris, 2017
Is poetry only meant for teaching what is time-honoured
what is authorised
what seeks not to rock the ship of fate
Part Six
Helas! My universally-renowned peerless ancestor!
I’d like to think
You’d be the first to have recognized the always changing world
The first to have accepted the parting of ways
For your intelligence your foresight and hindsight
Your immensely powerful quill
would have sought other remedies
other means to convince
a wayward world
a world far too gone and worldly-wise
to hatch the nuances of your admonishing word
all afresh
N’empêche your name is a comet
hurtling down the ages
©T.Wignesan, December 2001, Paris, France (from the Sequence: "Words for a Lost Sub-Continent", 1999 )
Part Four
and you might never have thought
the mighty today are like those trodden poor of your day
who
at least were shackled to ignorance by force
by godly fear
a racially discriminating Overlord
now the privileged in blindness give you lip-service
and a lot of money
hoping by this gesture to earn your merit
not earn YOU merit
and the society’s accolade
You remain abused still
by the vain undistinguishing crowd
who upon the mention of your name
rise to feel proud
of what then
than
in their shored-up selves
of belonging within
the self-same pigment and tongue
None of your real worth passes into them
Nor the reason for your epigrammatic lines
Pray
Should I then beg forgiveness for this affront
(Continued in Part Five)