People always leave and rarely turn around,
Missing all the melodies that we never found.
Chasing words that never seem to come,
Things left unsaid, only leave the tongue numb.
Holding on to memories that agonizingly fade,
Wondering if this soundtrack could ever be replayed.
Haunted by the silence, the years of suppression,
Our promises of forever somehow lost in translations.
With tears escaping from watercolour eyes,
You can only lament the severed ties,
Because people always leave, no matter what you do,
Forever walking away before the heart is through.
Oh, how can we deny !
when the poor translations of HIS language deafen us,
while HIS silences make us cry.
(01.03.2025)
"Silence is the language of god,
all else is poor translation" - Rumi.
Yamaguchi Seishi haiku translations
Grasses wilt:
the braking locomotive
grinds to a halt.
? Yamaguchi Seishi, loose translation by Michael R. Burch
Ceaseless chaos?
ice floes clash
in the Soya straits.
? Yamaguchi Seishi, loose translation by Michael R. Burch
Once they’ve crossed the sea,
winter winds can never return.
? Yamaguchi Seishi, loose translation by Michael R. Burch
(Written in October 1944 as Kamikaze pilots were flying out to sea.)
Banish the snow
for the human torpedo
now lies exploded.
?Yamaguchi Seishi, loose translation by Michael R. Burch
The sky hangs low
over Karafuto,
as white as the spawning herring.
?Yamaguchi Seishi, loose translation by Michael R. Burch
Majrooh Sultanpuri translations of Urdu poems into English
I'm like a commodity being priced in the market-place:
every eye ogles me like a buyer's.
—Majrooh Sultanpuri, loose translation by Michael R. Burch
If you insist, I'll continue playing my songs,
forever piping the flute of my heart.
—Majrooh Sultanpuri, loose translation by Michael R. Burch
The moon has risen once again, yet you are not here.
My heart is a blazing pyre; what do I do?
—Majrooh Sultanpuri, loose translation by Michael R. Burch
Keywords/Tags: Urdu, translation, Hindi, couplet, couplets, song, songs, heart, love, market, meat market
Ryokan translations of Zen Death Haiku and other Poems
First one hidden face is revealed,
then the other; thus spinning it falls,
the autumn leaf.
—Ryokan (1758-1831), loose translation by Michael R. Burch
This world:
a distant mountain echo
dying unheard in the Void ...
—Ryokan (1758-1831), loose translation by Michael R. Burch
The peonies I planted around my hut
I must now surrender
to the wind’s will
—Ryokan (1758-1831), loose translation by Michael R. Burch
Wild peonies
blossoming in their prime,
glorious in full bloom:
Too precious to pick,
Too precious to leave unplucked
—Ryokan (1758-1831), loose translation by Michael R. Burch
I persuaded a child to purchase rural wine;
once I'm nicely tipsy,
I’ll slap down some calligraphy.
—Ryokan (1758-1831), loose translation by Michael R. Burch
The thief missed it:
the moon
bejeweling my window.
—Ryokan (1758-1831), loose translation by Michael R. Burch
The Orchid
Deep in the valley, a secluded beauty!
Serene, peerless, impossibly lovely.
In the bamboo thicket’s shadowy tower
she seems to sigh softly for a lover.
—Ryokan (1758-1831), loose translation by Michael R. Burch
O God!
by Qateel Shifai
loose translation by Michael R. Burch
Torture my heart, O God!
If you so desire, leave me a madman, O God!
Have I asked for the moon and stars?
Enlighten my heart and give my eyes sight, O God!
We have all seen this disk called the sun,
Now give us a real dawn, O God!
Either relieve our pains here on this earth
Or make my heart granite, O God!
***
Hereafter
by Qateel Shifai
loose translation by Michael R. Burch
Since we met and parted, how can we sleep hereafter?
Lost in each others' remembrance, must we not weep hereafter?
Deluges of our tears will keep us awake all night:
Our eyelashes strung with strands of pearls, hereafter!
Thoughts of our separation will sear our grieving hearts
Unless we immerse them in the cooling moonlight, hereafter!
If the storm also deceives us, crying Qateel!,
We will scuttle our boats near forsaken shores, hereafter.
Couplets
by Mir Taqi Mir
loose translations by Michael R. Burch
Sharpen the barbs of every thorn, O lunatic desert!
Perhaps another hobbler, limping by on blistered feet, follows me!
?Mir Taqi Mir, loose translation by Michael R. Burch
My life is a bubble,
this world an illusion.
?Mir Taqi Mir, loose translation by Michael R. Burch
Selflessness has gotten me nowhere:
I neglected myself far too long.
?Mir Taqi Mir, loose translation by Michael R. Burch
I know now that I know nothing,
and it only took me a lifetime to learn!
?Mir Taqi Mir, loose translation by Michael R. Burch
Love's just beginning, so why do you whine?
Why not wait and watch how things unwind!
?Mir Taqi Mir, loose translation by Michael R. Burch
Somewhere between here,
blase and tomorrow's
derangement, lost the plot in
a moment of coherent clarity,
'twas quite a peculiar notion
unsettling predicament of
knowing one's own psyche,
silently questioned the
absolute mindfulness,
hardly sure whether to
heed or trust abstruse
insomuch as the validity
mid concise advice of
internal voiced concepts
shanghaiing neurons,
haranguing harbingers
hung on haphazardly
'til giving up on
any possibility of
sensibilities' solution,
acquired a migraine trying
to comprehend saneness,
there's a mental jolting,
dash of disappointment
mid virtual realizations
and literal translations
of who and what we are
[realistically] as opposed
to 'who we think we are'
fallen into rabbit hole madness,
"I don't think we're in Kansas anymore"...
She was a daring escape artist,
secret agent in her own maniacally
complicit central intelligence gravitas,
gritting darkly ravaged plug-in gray matter
weapon of choice - unsystematic wordy tumult
seducing unhinged recondite translations
https://allpoetry.com/group/show/33202-Eastern%20Slavic%20Folklore%20Poet
Lips challenge the air with fluid words,
puncturing the cloak of the human brain.
As oiled ears choose each pleasing sound,
ignoring the pleas of unspoken pain.
Differences of opinion often pop up
when creative minds gather for deep talks.
Each sewn collection of whispered verses
are translated by reason's inviting walks.
The precious key of human understanding
lies locked within the listening ear.
A fractured misunderstanding is formed
by scraps of conversations coming in unclear.
Voices drift through wandering thoughts,
leaving impressions upon daily life.
A word's strength stirs within the human soul,
but wrong translations cause boiling strife.
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.