Poetry has washed its hands off me by Nicanor Parra, Translated by T. Wignesan
I don’t say I'm done with everything
I don’t feel deluded in this respect
I would have liked continuing to poetise
but the course of inspiration has run out.
Poetry has continued to behave well
it is I who is guilty of horribly bad behaviour.
What do I gain from saying
that I (too) have behaved well
that poetry has not been of good behaviour
when everybody knows I’m the guilty one.
Serves me right that I made myself out to be an imbecile!
Poetry has continued to behave well
my behaviour has been despicably horrible
Poetry has washed its hands off me.
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2016
Vivekananda,
A mystic of mystics,
Made old truths sound new.
Vivekananda,
A thinker of thinkers,
When speak startle and out-think you.
Vivekananda,
A speaker of speakers,
Spoke,
Niether to valorise,
Nor to ridicule motherland.
Vivekananda,
A philosopher of philosophers,
Was an inner journey
With a pristine stand.
His eyes hypnotise,
His words magnetise,
His personality poetise,
The truth , the unexpected.
The confidence and the era he directed,
makes him an Indian sage,
Not mascot.
Today,
Our philosophycally unadventurous times,
Need his gaze,
To tie our nation once again,
Into a "literally independent" knot.
- Sanskruti Singh Jadon
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