tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-48855824463273692922024-03-13T19:56:08.653-07:00My favorite poemsUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger7125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4885582446327369292.post-16418414594363333522007-07-27T08:54:00.000-07:002007-07-27T09:00:56.066-07:00Here in Kathmanduby Donald Justice<br /><br />We have climbed the mountain.<br />There's nothing more to do.<br />It is terrible to come down<br />To the valley<br />Where, amidst many flowers,<br />One thinks of snow,<br /><br />As formerly, amidst snow,<br />Climbing the mountain,<br />One thought of flowers,<br />Tremulous, ruddy with dew,<br />In the valley.<br />One caught their scent coming down.<br /><br />It is difficult to adjust, once down,<br />To the absence of snow.<br />Clear days, from the valley,<br />One looks up at the mountain.<br />What else is there to do?<br />Prayer wheels, flowers!<br /><br />Let the flowers<br />Fade, the prayer wheels run down.<br />What have they to do<br />With us who have stood atop the snow<br />Atop the mountain,<br />Flags seen from the valley?<br /><br />It might be possible to live in the valley,<br />To bury oneself among flowers,<br />If one could forget the mountain,<br />However, once looking down,<br />Stiff, blinded with snow,<br />One knew what to do.<br /><br />Meanwhile it is not easy here in Kathmandu,<br />Especially when to the valley<br />That wind which means snow<br />Elsewhere, but here means flowers,<br />Comes down,<br />As soon it must, from the mountain.<br /><br /><I>Thanks to Todd for sharing this poem.</I>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com22tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4885582446327369292.post-49901215719508275612007-07-27T08:40:00.000-07:002007-07-27T08:53:13.782-07:00Looking For Each Otherby Thich Naht Hahn<br /><br />I have been looking for you, World Honored One,<br />since I was a little child.<br />With my first breath, I heard your call,<br />and began to look for you, Blessed One.<br />I've walked so many perilous paths,<br />confronted so many dangers,<br />endured despair, fear, hopes, and memories<br />I've trekked to the farthest regions, immense and wild,<br />sailed the vast oceans,<br />traversed the highest summits, lost among the clouds.<br />I've lain dead, utterly alone,<br />on the sands of ancient deserts.<br />I've held in my heart so many tears of stone.<br /><br />Blessed One, I've dreamed of drinking dewdrops<br />that sparkle with the light of far-off galaxies.<br />I've left footprints on celestial mountains<br />and screamed from the depths of Avici Hell, exhausted, crazed with despair<br />because I was so hungry, so thirsty.<br />For millions of lifetimes,<br />I've longed to see you,<br />but didn't know where to look.<br />Yet, I've always felt your presence with a mysterious certainty.<br /><br />I know that for thousands of lifetimes,<br />you and I have been one,<br />and the distance between us is only a flash of thought.<br />Just yesterday while walking alone,<br />I saw the old path strewn with Autumn leaves,<br />and the brilliant moon, hanging over the gate,<br />suddenly appeared like the image of an old friend.<br />And all the stars confirmed that you were there!<br />All night, the rain of compassion continued to fall,<br />while lightning flashed through my window<br />and a great storm arose,<br />as if Earth and Sky were in battle.<br />Finally in me the rain stopped, the clouds parted.<br />The moon returned,<br />shining peacefully, calming Earth and Sky.<br />Looking into the mirror of the moon, suddenly<br />I saw myself,<br />and I saw you smiling, Blessed One.<br />How strange!<br /><br />The moon of freedom has returned to me,<br />everything I thought I had lost.<br />From that moment on,<br />and in each moment that followed,<br />I saw that nothing had gone.<br />There is nothing that should be restored.<br />Every flower, every stone, and every leaf recognize me.<br />Wherever I turn, I see you smiling<br />the smile of no-birth and no-death.<br />The smile I received while looking at the mirror of the moon.<br />I see you sitting there, solid as Mount Meru,<br />calm as my own breath,<br />sitting as though no raging fire storm ever occurred,<br />sitting in complete peace and freedom.<br />At last I have found you, Blessed One,<br />and I have found myself.<br />There I sit.<br /><br />The deep blue sky,<br />the snow-capped mountains painted against the horizon,<br />and the shining red sun sing with joy.<br />You, Blessed One, are my first love.<br />The love that is always present, always pure, and freshly new.<br />And I shall never need a love that will be called "last".<br />You are the source of well-being flowing through numberless troubled lives,<br />the water from you spiritual stream always pure, as it was in the beginning.<br />You are the source of peace,<br />solidity, and inner freedom.<br />You are the Buddha, the Tathagata.<br />With my one-pointed mind<br />I vow to nourish your solidity and freedom in myself<br />so I can offer solidity and freedom to countless others,<br />now and forever.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4885582446327369292.post-7694620033084187912007-07-11T14:45:00.000-07:002007-07-11T14:47:36.690-07:00Crazyby Laxmi Prasad Devkota<br /> <br />1.<br />Oh yes, friend! I'm crazy-<br />that's just the way I am.<br /><br />2.<br />I see sounds, <br />I hear sights, <br />I taste smells, <br />I touch not heaven but things from the underworld, <br />things people do not believe exist, <br />whose shapes the world does not suspect.<br />Stones I see as flowers<br />lying water-smoothed by the water's edge, <br />rocks of tender forms<br />in the moonlight<br />when the heavenly sorceress smiles at me, <br />putting out leaves, softening, glistening, <br />throbbing, they rise up like mute maniacs, <br />like flowers, a kind of moon-bird's flowers.<br />I talk to them the way they talk to me, <br />a language, friend, <br />that can't be written or printed or spoken, <br />can't be understood, can't be heard.<br />Their language comes in ripples to the moonlit Ganges banks, <br />ripple by ripple-<br />oh yes, friend! I'm crazy-<br />that's just the way I am.<br /><br />3.<br />You're clever, quick with words, <br />your exact equations are right forever and ever.<br />But in my arithmetic, take one from one-<br />and there's still one left.<br />You get along with five senses, <br />I with a sixth.<br />You have a brain, friend, <br />I have a heart.<br />A rose is just a rose to you-<br />to me it's Helen and Padmini.<br />You are forceful prose<br />I liquid verse.<br />When you freeze I melt, <br />When you're clear I get muddled<br />and then it works the other way around.<br />Your world is solid, <br />mine vapor, <br />yours coarse, mine subtle.<br />You think a stone reality; <br />harsh cruelty is real for you.<br />I try to catch a dream, <br />the way you grasp the rounded truth of cold, sweet coin.<br />I have the sharpness of the thorn, <br />you of gold and diamonds.<br />You think the hills are mute-<br />I call them eloquent.<br />Oh yes, friend! <br />I'm free in my inebriation-<br />that's just the way I am.<br /><br />4.<br />In the cold of the month of Magh<br />I sat<br />warming to the first white heat of the star.<br />the world called me drifty.<br />When they saw me staring blankly for seven days<br />after I came back from the burning ghats<br />they said I was a spook.<br />When I saw the first marks of the snows of time<br />in a beautiful woman's hair<br />I wept for three days.<br />When the Buddha touched my soul<br />they said I was raving.<br />They called me a lunatic because I danced<br />when I heard the first spring cuckoo.<br />One dead-quite moon night<br />breathless I leapt to my feet, <br />filled with the pain of destruction.<br />On that occasion the fools<br />put me in the stocks, <br />One day I sang with the storm-<br />the wise men<br />sent me off to Ranchi.<br />Realizing that same day I myself would die<br />I stretched out on my bed.<br />A friend came along and pinched me hard<br />and said, Hey, madman, <br />your flesh isn't dead yet! <br />For years these things went on.<br />I'm crazy, friend-<br />that's just the way I am.<br /><br />5.<br />I called the Navab's wine blood, <br />the painted whore a corpse, <br />and the king a pauper.<br />I attacked Alexander with insults, <br />and denounced the so-called great souls.<br />The lowly I have raised on the bridge of praise<br />to the seventh heaven.<br />Your learned pandit is my great fool, <br />your heaven my hell, <br />your gold my iron, <br />friend! Your piety my sin.<br />Where you see yourself as brilliant<br />I find you a dolt.<br />Your rise, friend-my decline.<br />That's the way our values are mixed up, <br />friend! <br />Your whole world is a hair to me.<br />Oh yes, friend, I'm moonstruck through and through-<br />moonstruck! <br />That's just the way I am.<br /><br />6.<br />I see the blind man as the people's guide, <br />the ascetic in his cave a deserter; <br />those who act in the theater of lies<br />I see as dark buffoons.<br />Those who fail I find successful, <br />and progress only backsliding.<br />am I squint-eyed, <br />Or just crazy? <br />Friend, I'm crazy.<br />Look at the withered tongues of shameless leaders, <br />The dance of the whores<br />At breaking the backbone on the people's rights.<br />When the sparrow-headed newsprint spreads its black lies<br />In a web of falsehood<br />To challenge Reason-the hero in myself-<br />My cheeks turn red, friend, <br />red as molten coal.<br />When simple people drink dark poison with their ears<br />Thinking it nectar-<br />and right before my eyes, friend! -<br />then every hair on my body stands up stiff<br />as the Gorgon's serpent hair-<br />every hair on me maddened! <br />When I see the tiger daring to eat the deer, friend, <br />or the big fish the little, <br />then into my rotten bones there comes<br />the terrible strength of the soul of Dadhichi<br />and tries to speak, friend, <br />like the stormy day crashing down from heaven with the lightning.<br />When man regards a man<br />as not a man, friend, <br />then my teeth grind together, all thirty-two, <br />top and bottom jaws, <br />like the teeth if Bhimasena.<br />And then<br />red with rage my eyeballs rool<br />round and round, with one sweep<br />like a lashing flame<br />taking in this inhuman human world.<br />My organs leap out of theirs frames-<br />uproar! Uproar! <br />my breathing becomes a storm, <br />my face distorted, my brain on fire, friend! <br />with a fire like those that burn beneath the sea, <br />like the fire that devours the forests, <br />frenzied, friend! <br />as one who would swallow the wide world raw.<br />Oh yes, my friend, <br />the beautiful chakora am I, <br />destroyer of the ugly, <br />both tender and cruel, <br />the bird that steals the heaven's fire, <br />child of the tempest, <br />spew of the insane volcano, <br />terror incarnate.<br />Oh yes, friend, <br />my brain is whirling, whirling-<br />that's just the way I am.<br /><br />Published.1953.<br />(Translated from original Nepali version)<br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/crazy-3/Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4885582446327369292.post-66096103556238132022007-05-16T19:57:00.000-07:002007-05-16T20:11:49.784-07:00The Kabir Book18<br />Talk to my inner lover,<br />and I say, why such rush?<br /><br />We sense that there is some sort of spirit <br />that loves birds and animals and the ants -<br />perhaps the same one <br />who gave a radiance to you in your mother's womb.<br /><br />Is it logical you would be walking around entirely orphaned now?<br />The truth is you turned away yourself,<br />And decided to go into the dark alone.<br /><br />Now you are tangled up in others, and have forgotten <br />what you once knew,<br />and that's why <br />everything you do has some weird failure in it.<br /><br /><br />19<br />Friend, hope for the Guest while you are alive.<br />Jump into experience while you are alive!<br />Think … and think … while you are alive.<br />What you call "salvation" belongs to the time before death.<br /><br />If you don't break your ropes while you're alive, <br />do you think<br />ghosts will do it after?<br /><br />The idea that the soul will join with the ecstastic<br />just because the body is rotten -<br />that is all fantasy.<br />What is found now is found then.<br />If you find nothing now,<br />You will simply end up with an apartment in the city <br />of Death.<br />If you make love with the divine now, in the next life<br />You will have the face of satisfied desire.<br /><br />So plunge into the truth, find out who the Teacher is,<br />Believe in the Great Sound!<br /><br />Kabir says this: When the Guest is being searched for,<br />it is the intensity of the longing for the Guest that does all the work.<br />Look at me, and you will see a slave of that intensity.<br /><br /><br />20<br />I know the sound of the ecstatic flute,<br />but I don't know whose flute it is.<br /><br />A lamp burns and has neither wick nor oil.<br /><br />A lily pad blossoms and is not attached to the bottom!<br /><br />When one flower opens, ordinarily dozens open.<br /><br />The moon bird's head is filled with nothing but <br /> thoughts of the moon,<br />and when the next rain will come is all that the rain bird thinks of.<br /><br />Who is it we spend our entire life loving?<br /><br /><br />27<br />It is time to put up a love-swing!<br />Tie the body and then tie the mind so that they <br />Swing between the arms of the Secret One you love,<br />Bring the water that falls from the clouds to your eyes,<br />and cover yourself inside entirely with the shadow of night.<br />Bring your face up close to his ear,<br />and then talk only about what you want deeply to happen<br />Kabir says: Listen to me, brother, bring the shape,<br />Face, and odor the Holy One inside you.<br /><br /><br />28<br />There is nothing but water in the holy pools.<br />I know, I have been swimming in them.<br />All the gods sculpted of wood or ivory can't say a word.<br />I know, I have been crying out to them.<br />The Sacred Books of the East are nothing but words.<br />I looked through their covers one day sideways.<br />What Kabir talks of is only what has lived through.<br />If you have not lived through something, it is not true.<br /><br /><br />38<br />Friend, please tell me what I can do about this world<br />I hold to, and keep spinning out!<br /><br />I gave up sewn clothes, and wore a robe,<br />but I noticed one day the cloth was well woven.<br /><br />So I bought some burlap, but I still<br />throw it elegantly over my left shoulder.<br /><br />I pulled back my sexual longings,<br />and now I discover that I'm angry a lot.<br /><br />I gave up rage, and now I notice<br />that I am greedy all day.<br /><br />I worked hard at dissolving the greed,<br />and now I am proud of myself.<br /><br />When the mind wants to break its link with the world<br />It still holds on to one thing.<br /><br />Kabir says: Listen my friend,<br />There are very few that find the path!<br /><br />Source: The Kabir Book. Forty-four of the Ecstatic Poems of Kabir. Versions by Robert Bly. A Seventies Press Book. Beacon Press-Boston.1977.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4885582446327369292.post-47715543130814715062007-05-10T15:27:00.000-07:002007-05-10T15:29:25.640-07:00Marriageby Kahlil Gibran<br /><br />Then Almitra spoke again and said, 'And what of Marriage, master?' <br /><br />And he answered saying: <br /><br />You were born together, and together you shall be forevermore. <br /><br />You shall be together when white wings of death scatter your days. <br /><br />Aye, you shall be together even in the silent memory of God. <br /><br />But let there be spaces in your togetherness, <br /><br />And let the winds of the heavens dance between you. <br /><br />Love one another but make not a bond of love: <br /><br />Let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls. <br /><br />Fill each other's cup but drink not from one cup. <br /><br />Give one another of your bread but eat not from the same loaf. <br /><br />Sing and dance together and be joyous, but let each one of you be alone, <br /><br />Even as the strings of a lute are alone though they quiver with the same music. <br /><br />Give your hearts, but not into each other's keeping. <br /><br />For only the hand of Life can contain your hearts. <br /><br />And stand together, yet not too near together: <br /><br />For the pillars of the temple stand apart, <br /><br />And the oak tree and the cypress grow not in each other's shadow. <br /><br />Source: The ProphetUnknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4885582446327369292.post-25445850111048259232007-05-08T20:10:00.000-07:002007-05-08T21:00:06.473-07:00GitanjaliRabindranath Tagore<br /><br /><U>Mind Without Fear </U><br /><br />Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high; <br />Where knowledge is free; <br /><br />Where the world has not been broken up <br />into fragments by narrow domestic walls; <br /><br />Where words come out from the depth of truth; <br />Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection; <br /><br />Where the clear stream of reason <br />has not lost its way into the dreary desert sand of dead habit; <br /><br />Where the mind is led forward by thee into ever-widening thought and action <br />Into that heaven of freedom, my Father, let my country awake.<br /><br /><br /><U>Purity </U><br /><br />Life of my life, I shall ever try to keep my body pure, knowing <br />that thy living touch is upon all my limbs. <br /><br />I shall ever try to keep all untruths out from my thoughts, knowing <br />that thou art that truth which has kindled the light of reason in my mind. <br /><br />I shall ever try to drive all evils away from my heart and keep my <br />love in flower, knowing that thou hast thy seat in the inmost shrine of my heart. <br /><br />And it shall be my endeavour to reveal thee in my actions, knowing it <br />is thy power gives me strength to act. <br /><br /><br /><U>Moment's Indulgence</U><br /><br />I ask for a moment's indulgence to sit by thy side. The works <br />that I have in hand I will finish afterwards. <br /><br />Away from the sight of thy face my heart knows no rest nor respite, <br />and my work becomes an endless toil in a shoreless sea of toil. <br /><br />Today the summer has come at my window with its sighs and murmurs; and <br />the bees are plying their minstrelsy at the court of the flowering grove. <br /><br />Now it is time to sit quite, face to face with thee, and to sing <br />dedication of life in this silent and overflowing leisure. <br /><br /><br /><U>Fool </U><br /><br />O Fool, try to carry thyself upon thy own shoulders! <br />O beggar, to come beg at thy own door! <br /><br />Leave all thy burdens on his hands who can bear all, <br />and never look behind in regret. <br /><br />Thy desire at once puts out the light from the lamp it touches with its breath. <br />It is unholy---take not thy gifts through its unclean hands. <br />Accept only what is offered by sacred love. <br /><br /><br /><U>Leave This </U><br /><br />Leave this chanting and singing and telling of beads! <br />Whom dost thou worship in this lonely dark corner of a temple with doors all shut? <br /><br />Open thine eyes and see thy God is not before thee! <br />He is there where the tiller is tilling the hard ground <br />and where the pathmaker is breaking stones. <br /><br />He is with them in sun and in shower, <br />and his garment is covered with dust. <br />Put off thy holy mantle and even like him come down on the dusty soil! <br /><br />Deliverance? <br />Where is this deliverance to be found? <br /><br />Our master himself has joyfully taken upon him the bonds of creation; <br />he is bound with us all for ever. <br /><br />Come out of thy meditations and leave aside thy flowers and incense! <br />What harm is there if thy clothes become tattered and stained? <br />Meet him and stand by him in toil and in sweat of thy brow.<br /><br /><br /><U>Lamp of Love </U><br /><br />Light, oh where is the light? <br />Kindle it with the burning fire of desire! <br /><br />There is the lamp but never a flicker of a flame---is such thy fate, my heart? <br />Ah, death were better by far for thee! <br /><br />Misery knocks at thy door, <br />and her message is that thy lord is wakeful, <br />and he calls thee to the love-tryst through the darkness of night. <br /><br />The sky is overcast with clouds and the rain is ceaseless. <br />I know not what this is that stirs in me---I know not its meaning. <br /><br />A moment's flash of lightning drags down a deeper gloom on my sight, <br />and my heart gropes for the path to where the music of the night calls me. <br /><br />Light, oh where is the light! <br />Kindle it with the burning fire of desire! <br />It thunders and the wind rushes screaming through the void. <br /><br />The night is black as a black stone. <br />Let not the hours pass by in the dark. <br />Kindle the lamp of love with thy life.<br /><br /><br /><U>Dungeon </U><br /><br />He whom I enclose with my name is weeping in this dungeon. <br /><br />I am ever busy building this wall all around; and as this wall goes up into <br />the sky day by day I lose sight of my true being in its dark shadow. <br /><br />I take pride in this great wall, and I plaster it with dust and sand <br />lest a least hole should be left in this name; <br />and for all the care I take I lose sight of my true being. <br /><br /><br /><U>Give Me Strength </U><br /><br />This is my prayer to thee, my lord---strike, <br />strike at the root of penury in my heart. <br /><br />Give me the strength lightly to bear my joys and sorrows. <br />Give me the strength to make my love fruitful in service. <br /><br />Give me the strength never to disown the poor <br />or bend my knees before insolent might. <br /><br />Give me the strength to raise my mind high above daily trifles. <br />And give me the strength to surrender my strength to thy will with love. <br /><br /><br /><U>Innermost One </U><br /><br />He it is, the innermost one, <br />who awakens my being with his deep hidden touches. <br /><br />He it is who puts his enchantment upon these eyes <br />and joyfully plays on the chords of my heart <br />in varied cadence of pleasure and pain. <br /><br />He it is who weaves the web of this maya <br />in evanescent hues of gold and silver, blue and green, <br />and lets peep out through the folds his feet, <br />at whose touch I forget myself. <br /><br />Days come and ages pass, <br />and it is ever he who moves my heart in many a name, <br />in many a guise, in many a rapture of joy and of sorrow. <br /><br /><br /><U>Face to Face </U><br /><br />Day after day, O lord of my life, <br />shall I stand before thee face to face. <br /><br />With folded hands, O lord of all worlds, <br />shall I stand before thee face to face. <br /><br />Under thy great sky in solitude and silence, <br />with humble heart shall I stand before thee face to face. <br /><br />In this laborious world of thine, tumultuous with toil <br />and with struggle, among hurrying crowds <br />shall I stand before thee face to face. <br /><br />And when my work shall be done in this world, <br />O King of kings, alone and speechless <br />shall I stand before thee face to face. <br /><br /><br /><U>Let Me Not Forget </U><br /><br />If it is not my portion to meet thee in this life <br />then let me ever feel that I have missed thy sight <br />---let me not forget for a moment, <br />let me carry the pangs of this sorrow in my dreams <br />and in my wakeful hours. <br /><br />As my days pass in the crowded market of this world <br />and my hands grow full with the daily profits, <br />let me ever feel that I have gained nothing <br />---let me not forget for a moment, <br />let me carry the pangs of this sorrow in my dreams <br />and in my wakeful hours. <br /><br />When I sit by the roadside, tired and panting, <br />when I spread my bed low in the dust, <br />let me ever feel that the long journey is still before me <br />---let me not forget a moment, <br />let me carry the pangs of this sorrow in my dreams <br />and in my wakeful hours. <br /><br />When my rooms have been decked out and the flutes sound <br />and the laughter there is loud, <br />let me ever feel that I have not invited thee to my house <br />---let me not forget for a moment, <br />let me carry the pangs of this sorrow in my dreams <br />and in my wakeful hours. <br /><br /><br /><U>Lost Time </U><br /><br />On many an idle day have I grieved over lost time. <br />But it is never lost, my lord. <br />Thou hast taken every moment of my life in thine own hands. <br /><br />Hidden in the heart of things thou art nourishing seeds into sprouts, <br />buds into blossoms, and ripening flowers into fruitfulness. <br /><br />I was tired and sleeping on my idle bed <br />and imagined all work had ceased. <br /><br />In the morning I woke up <br />and found my garden full with wonders of flowers. <br /><br /><br /><U>Death </U><br /><br />O thou the last fulfilment of life, <br />Death, my death, come and whisper to me! <br /><br />Day after day I have kept watch for thee; <br />for thee have I borne the joys and pangs of life. <br /><br />All that I am, that I have, that I hope and all my love <br />have ever flowed towards thee in depth of secrecy. <br /><br />One final glance from thine eyes <br />and my life will be ever thine own. <br /><br />The flowers have been woven <br />and the garland is ready for the bridegroom. <br /><br />After the wedding the bride shall leave her home <br />and meet her lord alone in the solitude of night. <br /><br /><br /><U>Last Curtain </U><br /><br />I know that the day will come <br />when my sight of this earth shall be lost, <br />and life will take its leave in silence, <br />drawing the last curtain over my eyes. <br /><br />Yet stars will watch at night, <br />and morning rise as before, <br />and hours heave like sea waves casting up pleasures and pains. <br /><br />When I think of this end of my moments, <br />the barrier of the moments breaks <br />and I see by the light of death <br />thy world with its careless treasures. <br /><br />Rare is its lowliest seat, <br />rare is its meanest of lives. <br /><br />Things that I longed for in vain <br />and things that I got <br />---let them pass. <br /><br />Let me but truly possess <br />the things that I ever spurned <br />and overlooked.<br /><br /><br /><U>Parting Words </U><br /><br />When I go from hence <br />let this be my parting word, <br />that what I have seen is unsurpassable. <br /><br />I have tasted of the hidden honey of this lotus <br />that expands on the ocean of light, <br />and thus am I blessed <br />---let this be my parting word. <br /><br />In this playhouse of infinite forms <br />I have had my play <br />and here have I caught sight of him that is formless. <br /><br />My whole body and my limbs <br />have thrilled with his touch who is beyond touch; <br />and if the end comes here, let it come <br />---let this be my parting word. <br /><br />All poems of Gitanjali: <a href="http://www.schoolofwisdom.com/gitanjali.html">http://www.schoolofwisdom.com/gitanjali.html</a><br /><a href="http://www.nepalikavita.com/nepalima-anudit/gitanjali.pdf">Want to read in Nepali?</a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com167tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4885582446327369292.post-69296940902164928592007-05-04T19:47:00.000-07:002007-07-29T09:08:55.567-07:00We<blockquote>by Bhupi Sherchan</blockquote>translated in english by Dr Tara Nath Sharma<br /><br />However much we raise ourselves up,<br />However much we run here and there,<br />However loud we may roar<br /><br />However, we are merely drops of water,<br />Impotent drops of water<br />Which are drawn up by the sun<br />And become clouds,<br /><br />We run here and there at the signal of the wind<br />And we feel ourselves full of motion,<br />And once we reach the heights<br />We forget our own land,<br />And with scorn towards our own land,<br />At the rivers, at the banks,<br />Like tame dogs looking through the window<br />Barking at dogs in the street<br />We bark<br />And feel out own dog's barking to be a roar<br />And one day, eventually, we fall to pieces <br />And we are once again transformed into drops of water<br />And as drops we spend our lives stagnating<br />In some gutter, well or lake<br />Keeping disgusting frogs which crock, crock,<br />Embracing snakes without venom.<br /><br />However much we raise ourselves up,<br />However much we run here and there,<br />However loud we roar,<br />However, deep within, we are hollow.<br />Our roar carries no more weight than<br />the hiss of an ember thrown into water.<br /><br />2<br /><br />However high we may look from outside<br />Deep within we are being continually worn away<br />Our superficial height is false, it's a delusion<br /><br />It has no more importance than the height of <br />A little mushroom growing on top of a hill,<br />There is nothing more special about it than<br />The height if the Indian acrobat tying two bamboos<br />to his legs as stilts<br />It is no more important than the height<br />Of a circus clown dancing with a high pointed hat,<br />We are pleased with our outward, height,<br />We are charmed, we are proud<br />But we, on the island of our own beliefs<br />Have forgotten <br />that we are constantly being ground down and worn away<br />Washed up on the little island of inferiority we<br />Have lost the memory of our own past <br />We have forgotton the common stature of man<br />We have forgotten the stature of the common man<br />Like the Gulliver described in the story,<br />Comes and lies down on the island of our beliefs<br />We look at him in disbelief<br />We feel disbelief at looking at him<br />We are astonished on seeing his height<br />And we are afraid seeing our own smallness<br />And that is why from our own feeling of inferiority<br />We attack him, with little weapons no bigger than heedles,<br />We climb over is limbs,<br />We jump, we bite, we pinch,<br />And, finally, exhausted we descend,<br />We are at peace, we accept our defeat,<br />Like the sea tide surging over o boulder<br />Descends and washes its feet,<br />We begin to worship that common man <br />thinking him great.<br /><br />3<br /><br />However tall we might look from outside,<br />Deep within we are always ground down and wearing away<br />We are the men of Lilliput We are little men.<br /><br />We cannot get along of our own accord<br />there must be someone to bring us together,<br />We cannot be divided of our own accord<br />there must be someone to separate us,<br />We are unable to go ahead of our own accord<br />there must be someone to drive us forward,<br />There must be someone to lead us along,<br />we are the old pieces for the table-top game of 'ricochet'<br />Splintered, broken, whose colors have worn away,<br />we are mere the materials for a good game,<br />We depend upon a player, having lost our own ability to move,<br />We require a 'striker',<br />Yes, we are less like human beings and more like pawns.<br /><br />4<br /><br />We are brave, but we are dumb<br />We are dumb, and that is why we are brave<br />We were never able to be brave withour being dumb<br />We are the Ekalabya described in the tale of the Mahabharata<br />Dronacharya, the teacher of every generation, hates us,<br />He excludes us from his gift of knowledge<br />He refuses to recognize our capacity,<br />Our power, and even our existence,<br />But, we make an image of this very Dronacharya<br />In front of our own hut,<br />We worship it, we bow down to it.<br /><br />5<br /><br />We endlessly practice the skill of archery,<br />And we become more skillful than his other noble disciples,<br />But, being wonderstruck and frightened of our abilitty,<br />In every generation Dronacharya come to us <br />And we gladly, at his signal,<br />Cut off our thumb and offer it to him as a gift,<br />Destroying our own existence we hand it over to him<br />And we are ecstatic about our devotion to our teacher<br />About the strength of our own souls.<br />It is because of that we are brave<br />But, we are dumb<br />And that is why we are brave<br />We were never able to be brave without being dumb<br />We could never become brave without setting up an image of someone.<br /><br />6<br /><br />We are feet, just feet<br />and only feet.<br />Feet: the support on which the body stands. <br />Feet: on which the body walks.<br />Feet: relying on which the body runs.<br />Feet: Which think that they are kept<br />As a favor by the body.<br />Being kind to them, it takes them along with it.<br />Ecstatic over the greatness of the body<br />And always bears the whole burden to the body,<br />they never raise their heads and look up<br />They always remain bent over<br />We are feet<br />We come in first in the race<br />And our forhead gets the 'tika'<br />We come in first in the race<br />And our chest receives the medal.<br />The forehead which gets the 'tika' belongs to somebody else.<br />The neck which wears the garland belongs to somebody else.<br />The chest which receives the medal belongs to somebody else.<br />We are just feet which run, which wald, which stand<br />Merely at the direction of someone else.<br />Just feet and only feet.<br /><br />7<br /><br />We are nothing, and perhaps that's why we are something !<br />We are nowhere and we are nothing,<br />And, perhaps, that is why we are somewhere and we are something<br />we are not living, but, perhaps,<br />That is the reason we are still alive.<br />Because of that come, oh worshippers of emptiness;<br />Let us worship this emptiness completely<br />Let us all, together practice prostrating to it<br />to this god of our existence. <br /><br />Yuyutsu R.D. Sharma's translations <br />Original source: <a href="http://penhimalaya.netfirms.com/bhupi_sherchan.htm">http://penhimalaya.netfirms.com/bhupi_sherchan.htm</a><br />Original Nepali poem: <a href="http://www.nepalikavita.com/kavita-sangraha/ghumne-mech/hami.pdf"><strong>हामी</strong></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com7