[From the book: AN ANTHOLOGY OF INDIAN POEMS "NATIVE PETALS"
Published in 2005 by Poetree Garden Publication]
Every moment I die!
Every moment I resurrect!
A flame of life, feeble in size, strong in spirit
Transpasses between death and resurrection.
The laws of transpass no science ever discovered;
No defeat of Science, great mother of all inventions;
It surpasses the hitherto discovered complex controversial calculations;
Multimillion fragments of life, multimillion fragments of death
Transpassed, transpassing and will transpass by the eternal flame of life
That is me, the tormented man, the mad-wise man
Who dies every moment, resurrects every moment.
The moment I die my poetry vanishes;
It is fogotten as it was never there.
The moment I resurrect my poetry flows uninterrupted
As it was never broken by death.
It is the inconceivable might of the flame,
The flame of life that death the impotent is afraid to touch.
My death makes no stopped to life.
Really, I never die, I only become dead to resurrect.
Death is only a part-time job, life is the real job-the real profession.
Life is not merely Me living, it is the Universe living.
Why should me bother of death?
Who is afraid of death?
Death is a moment's breach of life
A breach for the Universe to resurrect a broken life.
I am afraid of the servants of death-
Most merciless among my relatives, among my partisans
Among the full-throated, treacherous, ugly Philistines of politicians.
I am afraid of the priestly war-drobe
Full of the sinful blood and impure smell of Philistine lucrativeness,
O! the boiling blood of Christs, Joan of Arcs, Socrates and Galeleos,
All dropped unceremoniously in the dark deep-
Abysmal labyrinths of "the graves of sinners".
Beware of the priests, they are against life, the flame of life
The reuniting life-death cycle;
They are the preachers of eternal death.
The priest is darkness, life is all light.
Me who is not afraid of death, should be afraid of a priest?
അഭിപ്രായങ്ങളൊന്നുമില്ല:
ഒരു അഭിപ്രായം പോസ്റ്റ് ചെയ്യൂ