Poem Hunter: Poems - Poets - Poetry

LIBERAL Nature did dispence
To all things Arms for their defence;
And some she arms with sin'ewy force,
And some with swiftness in the course;
Some with hard Hoofs, or forked claws,
And some with Horns, or tusked jaws.
And some with Scales, and some with Wings,
And some with Teeth, and some with Stings.
Wisdom to Man she did afford,
Wisdom for Shield, and Wit for Sword.
What to beauteous Woman-kind,
What Arms, what Armour has she'assigne'd?
Beauty is both; for with the Faire
What Arms, what Armour can compare?
What Steel, what Gold, or Diamond,
More Impassible is found?
And yet what Flame, what Lightning ere
So great an Active force did bear?
They are all weapon, and they dart
Like Porcupines from every part.
Who can, alas, their strength express,
Arm'd when they themselves undress,
Cap a pe* with Nakedness?
...

Between going and staying
the day wavers,
in love with its own transparency.
The circular afternoon is now a bay
where the world in stillness rocks.

All is visible and all elusive,
all is near and can’t be touched.

Paper, book, pencil, glass,

...

The day was Bright!
Red and Blue were stark!
My rivals showcasing their might.
Fore they were after my Spark-
Quite ready I was for a fight….
Then Everything went Dark.

My legs were Gone,
….so I had to Crawl.
Fast, back up onto the lawn.

...

In whom longing for the Beloved hath taken abode,
Every moment his body becometh feeble and enervated.
A stream of tears constantly flows from his eyes;
The pangs of pain ceaselessly smart his body and mind.

Like rivers in Sawan and Bhadon, overflows the stream of my love.
Day and night I long for Him and tears fall like incessant rain.

The pain for my Beloved increasingly penetrates my being every moment;
My attention can be transfixed on nought but him,
Even as the moon bird never gets satiated by looking at the moon.

Dark clouds gather and burst with thunder, and lightning dazzles the eyes.
The peacock crows in delight and the rain bird sings his longing.
I yearn for thee evermore, my body keeps wasting away in anguish.

When I listen to the Sound, I lose my patience and I write to my Beloved.
With mind and soul as my couriers, I send my message to His inaccessible abode.

When I hear the tidings of His well-being,
My heart is filled with love and delight.
Ever since this yearning for the Lord has taken hold of me,
I have severed all connections with the world.

[Translation by S. L. Sondhi]
...

Between going and staying
the day wavers,
in love with its own transparency.
The circular afternoon is now a bay
where the world in stillness rocks.

All is visible and all elusive,
all is near and can’t be touched.

Paper, book, pencil, glass,

...

I once met one of Dad's friends
from the before-times he used to inhabit
until we came along - the time of Mum.
He took me there by train and taxi. The view

from the taxi window floated past: field after field
of bolting lettuces planted in long
weed-choked lines, a sad regiment
of ragged sea-green petticoats, thrusting


...

Day will be erased in night.
The ground's surface will extend outward.

The new moon will be swallowed
in eclipse, and the mind in meditation

will be completely absorbed
by the Void inside it.
...

not of silver nor of coral,
but of weatherbeaten laurel.

Here, he introduced a sea
uniform like tapestry;

here, a fig-tree; there, a face;
there, a dragon circling space --

designating here, a bower;

...