Three Poems

By Mahakavi G. SANKARA KURUP

(Rendered from Malayalam by V. Sreedhara Menon)

THE THIRST OF THE SOUL

Dusk is here
And the buds of clouds burst forth fresh amber leaves
In the multicoloured light!
And quietly opening the window of the blue
O Tharaka ¹ thou dost appear as of old
Proudly resplendent in the glory of the summer eve
Wreathed in a pure and simple smile,
Like a goddess
Bathed in loveliness.

Rare moments there have been
When I stood here in blissful reverie,
Drinking in the radiant tears of thine eye
Melting in tenderness.
All, all have faded into the distant realms of memory.
Yet shall I try, in fond fancy
To recapture the lost joy, to renew that experience divine.

No self-flattery this,
But what lightness was in the air in those bygone days!
The green hills and the golden fields
And the lush blue meadows did never feel
The press of my foot-fall, as they do now,
Drunk as I was with the ambrosial air.
Sweet sounds and forms of beauty
Made me dance in merriment.
How my young heart frisked,
Waving with flowers and winging the air with doves
And skipping and singing in the company of streams
Will they return, those hours of pure delight,
However much my soul may thirst for them?

Well-beloved was I
With the wide universe as my home,
With stars and flowers for play-mates.
Thine eye, fringed with the lashes of the rays
And mine, uplifted, hailed each other
The voiceless music of thy radiant soul
Touched toa trance of adoration
My heart, a pilgrim on the road to beauty and truth.
Ah lovely one, thou clasped me to thy soul.
And of a poor speck of dust made a poet.
But who can retrace his steps on the road of Time?
What is lost to the traveller is lost for ever.

How variant is my world now
Furrowed with care and sorrow
From yours, brimful of calm beatitude!
Here below
Are eyes which should have sparkled more than thee,
Faces which should have smiled yet more than thee,
Hearts, worth of a quietude and bliss
Greater than thine, sinking under the weight
Of unremitting agony
When an those crowd around, sunken, shrivelled and bursting
As far as the eye can reach,
When I hear the grievous groans
How can my heart help wrinkling
Thou too wilt turn grey in a day if thou darest touch this sphere

And thy soul of ethereal glory
Will freeze into a sod!
Alas, why did the spade of this fall betwixt us,
The claws of this dig deep into mine eyes?

O, Daughter of Heaven,
The tragedy of this human world is unknown to thee!
Unknown let it be
This our earth is made of frozen tears
And the very air is spun of sighs
And the monuments of rock are moulded of congealed blood.
The root, stem and flower of life
Smell bitter with .penury, sickness and war.
The hands which renovate the soil rot,
And the dreams which light the world darken;
The civilised fashions of an hour bloom on graves,
They fade and turn to dust; then new blooms quicken to dust.
Nothing lasts, but everlasting grief.

Ah friend, not to chew the cud of sorrow
Did I pause befare thee but to seek solace
My heart still leaps to reach the pure empyrean
Through thy lovingly slanting rays,
But dread reality on every side
Presses me down with heavy arms.
Far, far indeed art thou gone from me, O gentle friend of my youth;
Child of Heaven art thou,
I, of the earth.
Yet this my wish:
Let not the relentless hand of Time
Which turns radiant metal into lead
Wipe off thy glory, which distills
Renascent energy into the soul of man
And raises him unto Heaven,
Adieu!

ODE TO THE OCEAN

(1)

Weary is the sky,
With the warm dream of midsummer;
Weary too my heart,
Ruminant of old griefs.

O proud Ocean! espying thine august form,
My spirit, half slumbrous, opes its inner eyes,
Thou art the symbol of the Infinite, mystic, blue, sublime,
And my heart, embracing thee
Melts in joy, ineffable.
O Magnificent Being,
Swinging and waving thy hoods in terrific splendour
To the charming tune of Eternity, inaudible to mine ears
The heavens, bitten by thee on its broad, blue breast
Stretches motionless in ecstatic swoon:

Dance into my spirit,
Strike into my heart,
Bear me high
On your towering hood.

(2)

Now reclines the Eve
Silent in her colourful bower of clouds.
O fond lover,
What heart-ravishing serenade is it that thou singest below
Lost in a dream of harmony?
There on the rosy cheeks of your love
Whose golden garb has slipped from her naked bosom
Glistens the first starry tear of inexpressible bliss.
Indeed from thee have I learnt now
The art of pouring out the fullness of an aching soul.
Eternal minstrel,
Teach my heart-beats the rhythm
Of the ageless music of life, true and pure.
For life is music,
Time its rhythm,
The varied moods of the spirit, its melody–
And the Universe its harmony

(3)

The lovely ‘Sukla Panchmi’ comes soft and slow
With her moon-cup frothing and O’erflowing
With ambrosial bliss.
While thou snatchetb with impatient hand
The fair bowl which reflects her blue brows
And sips with foaming smile
And sings, thoughtless in ever-swelling ecstasy,
Your bride leans bashful on your passionately heaving breast
Her tumbling dark locks showering on it
A thousand buds of jasmine–
Not indeed the reflections of the star-bespangled sky!
Kiss the locks, O lover
Enwrap thyself in them
How I wish them joy,
Those flowery curls of hers!

(4)

Heaven and earth are now merged in slumber
O Comrade, we alone are here,
Thou and I

Whisper into the ears of my soul

The deep secret of thine innermost being.
O Tumultuous spirit that spurns the limits of life
And seethes with divine discontent,
There burst forth from thee waves of song
Resounding with high serious revolutionary fervour
And shaking the ever conservative land.
Indeed thy message makes
Even the lofty, changeless empire of the stars
Tremble afar in fear.
Let my weak spirit break
If break it may,
Make it the harp
To chant thy lay!

THE GREAT BROADCASTING STATION

(1)

I bow te thee, Oh-Great One
Who created in sportive mood
The Great Broadcasting Station, the Universe.

(2)

My Lora, how in wonder
I forget my little self
When I listen to Thy limitless programmes!

(3)

Unseen Thou standest,
While Thy infinite relays
Flood the vast ether of space and time.

(4)

Space is but Thy mighty Mind
Ever expanding in wonder.
And Time the pulsation of its creative surge.

(5)

Beyond imagination,
How numerous and how various
Are Thy forms of art, ever new and afresh!

(6)

When the light of primal morn
Lit the pilot-bulb of the day-star
The vital elements began a serial at Thy wish

(7)

Which continues without break for ever
In countless captivating scenes
Beauteous and orderly, bursting in joy through aeons.

(8)

Not a grain of sand is out of place
In this age-long pattern of the fable of life,
Not an incident distracts the evolving beauty of its vital theme.

(9)

The celestial chorus of the dancing stars,
And the glorious music of the dawn,
Her fingers playing on the mountain-peaks, high and low;

(10)

And the deep-blue ocean’s ‘jalatharanga’
And fair light’s symphony of colours,
And the sweet melodies of silvery streams–

(11)

What a splendid ground!
How gripping each and every scene,
In fulness of revelation, in final suspense

(12)

In curious wonder I sit
In a far-off niche, tuning myself
To this all-wave receiver, your gracious gift!

(13)

While thus I sit tuning the needle
Of the five-valved consciousness installed in me
How forget thy infinite kindness? Praise is Thine!

(14)

To fix the needle in place
And to sense the waves of Thy broadcast
Thro’ touch and taste, colour, sound and smell,

(15)

And to lose myself completely
In Thy harmonies-grant me this,
Only this my wish, Oh Lord of Truth and Joy!

¹ Evening star