(For Osip Emilyevich Mandelshtam)
They dragged you
clutching your collars
And took you far, far off.
Far from palaces of dreams,
Far from
trees, mountains,
the sea and stars.
There were no birds chirping
No flowers blooming
in the seasons.
Behind the gigantic bars of ice
Where light does not stop
Even for a second
In the blind wells of eyes.
In the feet of time
ring the chains.
They dragged you,
took away.
O my fellow poet,
My dearest one!
Beneath your lips
Songs of love
Of peace and comfort
Song of a native soil.
Converting the bondage chains
into a stanza
You always laughed at your wounds.
My dearest one
O my comrade
You are a supreme poem
You will be hanged tomorrow
Only this night remains
In the cold hands of night
remain
twinkling stars.
And you continue to count
the vanishing stars.
In your passionate eyes
There is no shadow of terror
On your lips
the moonlight of pride
You are face to face with me.
O my fellow poet
Don’t be upset by my pain.
This moment is great
It’s possible that
I will be hanged tomorrow
It’s possible
only in my native land!
Let me count
the vanishing stars
Tomorrow,
they would not wait for me.
From ‘Maanind’
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Baidar Bakht:: Translator of Urdu Poetry par excellence
BAIDAR BAKHT is Adjunct Professor of Civil Engineering at the Universities of Toronto and Manitoba, Canada. He translat...
-
My daughter Little dear daughter Lights a pencil With a sharpener. The sky of the white paper Begins to be filled with light. The black bird...
-
BAIDAR BAKHT is Adjunct Professor of Civil Engineering at the Universities of Toronto and Manitoba, Canada. He translat... -
A dalit poet Leaves several things behind: A paper dripping wet with blood, A black sun On the night’s head, A river of blood, A lantern of...
No comments:
Post a Comment