Poetry, A Natural Thing By Robert Duncan In Hindi/Urdu Translation Poem by Ravi Kopra

Na to hamari buraeeyaaN
aur na hi acHay gun hamari shaeyri
ko aagay baDatay hain.
"Vo oopar chaD kar aayeeN aur mar gayeeN
jaisay vo har saal karti hain
chattaoN par."

Shaeri hamari soch vichar
bhavana, mut, anubhav, laalsa
se apne aap paida hoti hai
ye ek aatmic jaldi hai
jo purani seDhion par uchalti hai.

Khoobsoorti is ki andhrooni rehat hai
jo apne janam ki taraf chalti hai
jo chaltay daryia ki disha k khilaf hai,
awaaz jo hum ne sunni the duniya k ban-nay tak
aur is ka jawab ab hum akhir main dete hain
ta k naya jahan fir se paida ho.

-to be continued

***

Poetry, a Natural Thing
BY ROBERT DUNCAN
Neither our vices nor our virtues
further the poem. "They came up
and died
just like they do every year
on the rocks."

The poem
feeds upon thought, feeling, impulse,
to breeditself,
a spiritual urgency at the dark ladders leaping.

This beauty is an inner persistence
toward the source
striving against (within)down-rushet of the river,
a call we heard and answer
in the lateness of the world
primordial bellowings
from which the youngest world might spring,

salmon not in the well where the
hazelnut falls
but at the falls battling, inarticulate,
blindly making it.

This is one picture apt for the mind.

A second: a moose painted by Stubbs,
where last year's extravagant antlers
lie on the ground.
The forlorn moosey-faced poem wears
new antler-buds,
the same,

"a little heavy, a little contrived",

his only beauty to be
all moose.