‘CELEBRATING CHILDHOOD’ -A POEM BY ADONIS !

adonis

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“Celebrating Childhood”

Even the wind wants
to become a cart
pulled by butterflies.
I remember madness
leaning for the first time
on the mind’s pillow.
I was talking to my body then
and my body was an idea
I wrote in red.
Red is the sun’s most beautiful
throne
and all the other colors
worship on red rugs.
Night is another candle.
In every branch, an arm,
a message carried in space
echoed by the body of the wind.
The sun insists on dressing itself
in fog
when it meets me:
Am I being scolded by the light?
Oh, my past days—
they used to walk in their sleep
and I used to lean on them.
Love and dreams are two
parentheses.
Between them I place my body
and discover the world.
Many times
I saw the air fly with two grass
feet
and the road dance with feet
made of air.
My wishes are flowers
staining my days.
I was wounded early,
and early I learned
that wounds made me.
I still follow the child
who still walks inside me.
Now he stands at a staircase
made of light
searching for a corner to rest in
and to read the face of night
again.
If the moon were a house,
my feet would refuse to touch its
doorstep.
They are taken by dust
carrying me to the air of seasons.
I walk,
one hand in the air,
the other caressing tresses
that I imagine.
A star is also
a pebble in the field of space.
He alone
who is joined to the horizon
can build new roads.
A moon, an old man,
his seat is night
and light is his walking stick.
What shall I say to the body I
abandoned
in the rubble of the house
in which I was born?
No one can narrate my childhood
except those stars that flicker
above it
and that leave footprints
on the evening’s path.
My childhood is still
being born in the palms of a light
whose name I do not know
and who names me.
Out of that river he made a
mirror
and asked it about his sorrow.
He made rain out of his grief
and imitated the clouds.
Your childhood is a village.
You will never cross its
boundaries
no matter how far you go.
His days are lakes,
his memories floating bodies.
You who are descending
from the mountains of the past,
how can you climb them again,
and why?
Time is a door
I cannot open.
My magic is worn,
my chants asleep.
I was born in a village,
small and secretive like a womb.
I never left it.
I love the ocean not the shores.

ADONIS.
(Translated by Khaled Mattawa).

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‘THE ROSE OF THE WORLD !’ -A POEM BY W.B.YEATS !

yeats-reading
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“THE ROSE OF THE WORLD”

WHO dreamed that beauty
passes like a dream?
For these red lips, with all their
mournful pride,
Mournful that no new wonder
may betide,
Troy passed away in one high
funeral gleam,
And Usna’s children died.
We and the labouring world are
passing by:
Amid men’s souls, that waver
and give place
Like the pale waters in their
wintry race,
Under the passing stars, foam of
the sky,
Lives on this lonely face.
Bow down, archangels, in your
dim abode:
Before you were, or any hearts
to beat,
Weary and kind one lingered by
His seat;
He made the world to be a
grassy road
Before her wandering feet.

W.B.YEATS

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MRITYUNJAY JHA
4F,ADARSH NAGAR
SAMASTIPUR
BIHAR
INDIA.
Postal-Code : 848101
(+91) 9334411390.
http://facebook.com/MJ1982M
http://twitter.com/MJ1982M

SHADES AND SHADOW ! (a poem)

Shadow In The Dark
And
Naked In The Light
Are
Impossible To Encounter.

Real And Unreal
Racing
Always
Against The Time-
Hypothetical
And
The Life-
Hypocritical !

Light
Laden With
Views :
Partial And Prejudiced
And
Darkness
Leads Us Away
From The Truth –
We Are Often Told !

But,
At Times,
More Scope Lies In The Dark
For
Reflections And Revelations !

What Light Can’t Show
Darkness Manifest.

Should We Not
Thus
Preserve
Some Ounces Of Darkness
In The Light Of Life
Measured
In Terms Of
Loving
Living
And
Leaving !

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MRITYUNJAY JHA
4F, ADARSH NAGAR
SAMASTIPUR
BIHAR
INDIA.
Postal Code : 848101.
(+91) 9334411390.
http://facebook.com/MJ1982M
http://twitter.com/MJ1982M

LIFE : A JOURNEY ! (Poem)

Roads That Bend/
Clouds That Descend/
Flowers That Bloom/
Challenges That Loom/

Each Has Its Mystery/
Each Has Its Revelation/
We All Become History/
Full Of Strange Manifestation/

You Came And Stay/
You Gone And Still Stay/

Love Always Has An Unsual Pattern /
It Knocks The Door /
When Empty Is The Inside /
And, Unprepared The Dweller /

Love Always Surprises/
After Night The Sun Rises/
And,
The Wind Blows/
Everything That Has Life /
Glows. /

Roads and Clouds and Flowers and Winds and Love /
Are /
All /
In The Journey ! /.
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MRITYUNJAY JHA
SAMASTIPUR
BIHAR
INDIA.
(91) 9334411390.
http://facebook.com/MJ1982M
http://twitter.com/MJ1982M

AS TIME GOES BY ! (Poem)

As Time Flies /
And
Memory Fades /
Into The Background./

At Thirty One /
Life Stops /
For A While /
Reflecting On The Gnawed Pages /
Of Past /
One Comes To A Halt /
That –
Memory Needs Amnesia ./

I Like Richard Wagner/
Because /
I Do Not Understand/
His Music ! /
But –
”BE THE MUSIC WHILE IT LASTS ” /
I Love Chopin’s Mazurka /
And /
Beethoven’s Symphony. /

There Is No Sense /
Except /
In Nonsense ! /

The Beauty Of Smoking /
Starts And Ends /
With The First Act /
Placing Cigarette Between The Lips /
And /
Lighting Its One End/
All Else Is /
Smoke !/

I Am Always The Last / To Come Home /
Through Lonely And Desserted Road /
No Human,but,Dogs /
Sitting And Brooding /
Sideways /
Middle /
On The Road /

Raindrops Falling/
On The RoofTop /
Serenading Its Joy /

The Pain Of Remembering /
Is /
The Most Painful Act /

The Last Time/
Those Eyes /
That I Had Searched /
Had Some Language /
To Convey ,Probably /
That –
O Gad ! /
I Never Wished /
That Was Not /
What I Meant At All ! /

At Thirty One –
The World Is Too Much /
And,
The Recurring Sounds /
Is –
I Am The Loss ! /
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I Am The Lost ! /

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MRITYUNJAY JHA
SAMASTIPUR
BIHAR
INDIA.
(91) 9334411390.
http://facebook.com/MJ1982M
http://twitter.com/MJ1982M