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ORIYA POETRY
MANORAMA MAHAPATRA ( RATH )
WAITING FOR THE LORD
The snow sparkles
Over the Himalayas...A little sparrow
Lisping the Lord's prayer
Flutters its wings
And knows not
Where to perch itself.A camp here
And a camp there
Crying against each other
Lure the winged one
To jump into the fire
They have lit for the night.From afar
You can hear
The supersonic shouts
Of the camp followers
Frantically trying to tear apart
The soul of the little sparrow
With their dogmas
And doctrines.All around hovers
The shroud
Of a killing chill
And the sparrow
Keeps on whispering
Into eternity
The sublime words
Of the Lord's Prayer:
Hallowed by thy name
Thy kingdom come
Thy will be done.
Translation:
Brajakishore Das
NILADRI BHUSAN HARICHANDAN
THE LIGHT OF THE PRISON
Even darkness fears
To step into this prison.
But,whom to fear?
The sentry
or the sleepless prisoners?The sound of the tired feet
Of the sentry
Lapses into the throb
Of the prisoners' hearts.
The iron-bars,
Trembling with human breath,
Terror-stricken,
Concede their defeat.The dark shadows
Of the prison cells
Turn into a chiaroscuro
In the sharp emanation of light.
The earth under the sentry's feet
slips away.The bird-of-light,
Flying out of the prisoner's heart
Watches from the sky
How the underground saplings
Break the rocks open
And lift up in speed
Towards light.
Translation:
Jibon Krishna Banerjee
NITYANANDA NAYAK
ALBUM
With the long breaths of time
looks bright
this album,
where lie ensconced
our infancy and youth
memories of the rainbow
and dreams of you;
even the toys and ribbons of our children
when they were toddlers,
everything,
safely preserved.In some nights like this
when my illusive heart
bends in pain
and in intolerable loneliness,
I open
my album.
Then the loud shivering laughter
of phantoms
melts in the empty air.
Translation:
Sanat Das Patnaik
NITYANANDA PATI
KARMAVIRA
In the front
everything is visible
yet astonishing
the sudden deep embrace
and the unconscious conscience.Live,
fill up your pocket
with whatever you get
fill up the basket
plucking flowers to your fulfilment
assume darkness
to be light
march on--
it does not mean anything
as to which tree is
without blossom
which village is
washed away in the flood.The only witnesses to your sin are:
the deceiving smile
foolish hypocrites
torn pieces of papers
corrupt practitioners
for recognition
or begging bowls!In the blessed dreams of luxury
yawns
the tireless chhau dance
as if in the dense boughs
a thirsty bird twitters
merrily
looking at
the sudden burst of rain.
The day,eyes opened,
the ocean is
sailing on waves
uncertainty in the air
the bright moon
the promise of a shore
and
to anchor.The wild waves washed away
the sand castles
and threw them back again
from the lap of the aged mother
from the earth to the sky
from the sky to the earth
in search of freedom
move restlessly
from the shade of the Bodhidruma
to the thirst of jnana yoga.The stick of the helpless age
in hand
the clock of painted relationship
on body
the delight of the greenery
in the mind
freedom is a consolation
searching
in darkness,
the statue of one's
smiles and tears
is recognised in the mirror
or in a drop of tear
in someone's eyes.
Translation:
Sanat Das Patnaik
A Varnamala Visualization