With lamps, fiery skies,
Pearls and spires all so many,
Sans thy light of eyes
O thou doe-eyed young beauty,
This world’s gloomy night to me.
_______________________
Translation (Tanka) | 29.08.2025 | beauty, dark, world
Note: Here is a verse (in Anushtubh meter) from Bhartrihari’s Shringaara Shatakam (hundred verses on love and romance). Here the poet imagines world without his doe-eyed beauty-- dark even with sun, moon, and brilliant jewels. Here is the transliteration of the original Sanskrit:
Sati pradeepe sati agnau,
Satsu naana manishu api |
Vinaa me mrga-shaava-akshyaa,
Tamah bhootam idam jagat || 16 ||
Categories:
jagat, beauty, dark, world,
Form: Tanka
I thought and thought. In all the world
Three things touched me, my heart captured:
Sugarcane derivates,
What poet’s pen creates,
And lithe limbs of a lass
That stir, in breeze as grass.
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Translation |24.10.2024| sweet, poems, lissom lass
Poet’s note: Sanskrit has thousands of verses of wisdom called Subhashhitam. The poet here says, ‘I thought and thought and three things touched inner precincts of my heart: sweets made from sugarcane, penmanship of poets, and a lissom lass’ lithe figure’. The transliteration of the Sanskrit verse follows:
Sanchintya sanchintya jagat samastam,
trayah padaarthaa hridayam pravishhtaah |
Ikshho vikaaraah kritayah kaveenaam,
mugdha-anganaayaa anga tarangitaani ||
Categories:
jagat, beauty, poems, sweet,
Form: Rhyme
Coming ashore at the island of Trunyan
to its teeth of bone
eyes to four directions tongue bloodthirsty
- what do you want this late at night? surely
to seek help from the moon
black chicken
sticky-rice flower
baskets : baskets
a frozen kris at the tip of my shoulders
suck the remaining portals of shame
at the split of banana leaves I look at her
purple sweat. her white kebaya sodden
pura gede pancering jagat temple as foreground
my name once again
my name once again
- that pot of authentic China rolls like a cart
speeding out of my body
like the shameless envious souls of jealous skeletons:
“look ma, my soul reawakens, I am no longer dead”
two baskets
black chicken
one o’clock that night the island of Trunyan
rolled its tongue in laughter
its tickled eyes stripping all bare
its hoarse voice splitting the eerie road
I want to go home soon – my boat is moored by the lakeside!
Notes :
Kris – a dagger with jagged edges.
Kebaya – traditional shirt that ladies wear in Indonesia, typically made of see-through cloth or brocade.
Categories:
jagat, adventure, evil, fear, funeral,
Form: Free verse