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ย
To read a review of these poems, Please here on APPRAISE
NAMAZ*
My fingers
Offer the five-time
Namaz
In the virgin mosque
Of the paper.
….
*The five times a day prayers for Muslims are known in the Indian Subcontinent as ‘namaz.
ย
***
ย
A Poem Of Yellow Sadness
(For Amrita Shergil*)
ย
Amrita,
Like Cezanne**,
You do not dilute your colours like water,
But you do borrow
The yellow sadness from the paintings of Gauguin***,
Like the sadness of the melodies of Rasoolan Bai****.
ย
On the ochre earth,
Sad faces,
Lost eyes
And wandering souls
Often moisten the paper of the heart.
ย
The spelling of colors on a canvas
Transform into faces.
The dialogue between the color and brush,
Had just started;
It ended up abruptly.
A poem of yellow sadness
Is taking shape on the canvas.
….
*Amrita Shergil (1913-1941), born to a Punjabi Sikh father and a Hungarian Jewish mother, is one of the most celebrated painters of India.
**Paul Cezanne (1939-1906) was a French post-impressionist painter.
***Paul Gauguin (1848-1903) was a French post-impressionist painter.
****Rasoolan Bai (1902-1974), of the Banaras School of classical music, was known for her singing of Thumri (music like canzonet), Dadra and other lighter genres of music.
ย
***
ย
VAN GOGH*
ย
(1)
ย
On evening,
For the sake of the moon,
He cut his right ear
With a sharp razor,
And came back to his room
To lie unconscious on his bed.
ย
The sunbeam,
Came down from the window,
To find a rivulet of blood
Trailing beyond the door.
A leaf was burning in it
In the shape of a heart.
….
*Vincent Van Gogh (1853-1890) was a famous post-impressionist Dutch painter, who was considered a madman and a failure in his lifetime. He committed suicide with a revolver.
ย ย
***
ย
VAN GOGH
ย
(2)
ย
Colors were unable to trap you.
You add blue paint to the shadow
To raze the whole sky.
You write the green grass
With yellow letters.
You set the tree to fire,
And fill cups and bottles with just air,
Just like your face.
You spit out your anger
In the strokes of the brush.
I have seen you emptying
A tube of paint on the canvas.
You descent into
The colors sticking to the palette knife.
You adorn strange streams,
Sitting on the bank of madness,
But before the morning,
You drown yourself
In layers of dewdrops.
***
ย
The Flask Of The Poem Broke
The flask of the poem broke,
But surprisingly, the sound of its breaking
On the shiny floor
Does not pierce my heart
Like an arrow!
Along with the roots,
I also came out.
The flask is covered in blood;
The explosion fills the room!
ย
Old refrains,
Holding verse notebooks,
Strut throughout the town.
The nail of poetry-music
Bothers my ears, day and night.
The butterfly of meters prances on the page.
Feeble threads of poetic beats,
Doves of verses,
Fly over the seven skies.
Ruins of symbolism lie deserted.
Windows of metaphors remain closed.
There are pigeons of words,
Feelings, dreams and desires,
Pigeons of rhythm, beat and aesthetics,
But their wings are wounded with bullets.
ย
I have everything:
Knife, hammer, nails and paper,
But the poem never takes shape.
ย
All night, the stars
Pluck at the harp of my heart,
But the poem never takes shape.
The flask of the poem broke….
ย
***
ย
Paintings Of Ram Kumar*
If you scratch
The paintings with the colors
Of depleted old walls,
The heart lights up.
A lonely laborer
And the pain
On the faces of lost people:
Under the layers of paint
Lie pain, spirituality and loneliness.
ย
Houses have replaced human beings.
Houses now tell stories
Of their walls,
Their windows
And their barren shadows.
ย
The houses like cobwebs,
Look like windows,
Like crooked lanes.
Black and maroon lines,
Show a new world every day.
….
*Ram Kumar (b. 1924) is one of the painters of the Progressive Writersโ Group, which include M. F. Hussain, Tayeb Mehta, S. H. Raza and the other famous painters; he is known especially for his abstract paintings.
ย
***
ย
(Translated from Urdu by Baidar Bakht)
****
NAMAZ*
ย
My fingers
Offer the five-time
Namaz
In the virgin mosque
Of the paper.
….
ย
*The five times a day prayers for Muslims are known in the Indian Subcontinent as ‘namaz.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ****
ย
ย
A Poem Of Yellow Sadness
ย
(For Amrita Shergil*)
ย
Amrita,
Like Cezanne**,
You do not dilute your colours like water,
But you do borrow
The yellow sadness from the paintings of Gauguin***,
Like the sadness of the melodies of Rasoolan Bai****.
ย
On the ochre earth,
Sad faces,
Lost eyes
And wandering souls
Often moisten the paper of the heart.
ย
The spelling of colors on a canvas
Transform into faces.
The dialogue between the color and brush,
Had just started;
It ended up abruptly.
A poem of yellow sadness
Is taking shape on the canvas.
….
*Amrita Shergil (1913-1941), born to a Punjabi Sikh father and a Hungarian Jewish mother, is one of the most celebrated painters of India.
**Paul Cezanne (1939-1906) was a French post-impressionist painter.
***Paul Gauguin (1848-1903) was a French post-impressionist painter.
****Rasoolan Bai (1902-1974), of the Banaras School of classical music, was known for her singing of Thumri (music like canzonet), Dadra and other lighter genres of music.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ****
ย
ย
VAN GOGH*
ย
(1)
ย
On evening,
For the sake of the moon,
He cut his right ear
With a sharp razor,
And came back to his room
To lie unconscious on his bed.
ย
The sunbeam,
Came down from the window,
To find a rivulet of blood
Trailing beyond the door.
A leaf was burning in it
In the shape of a heart.
….
*Vincent Van Gogh (1853-1890) was a famous post-impressionist Dutch painter, who was considered a madman and a failure in his lifetime. He committed suicide with a revolver.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ***
ย
VAN GOGH
ย
(2)
ย
Colors were unable to trap you.
You add blue paint to the shadow
To raze the whole sky.
You write the green grass
With yellow letters.
You set the tree to fire,
And fill cups and bottles with just air,
Just like your face.
You spit out your anger
In the strokes of the brush.
I have seen you emptying
A tube of paint on the canvas.
You descent into
The colors sticking to the palette knife.
You adorn strange streams,
Sitting on the bank of madness,
But before the morning,
You drown yourself
In layers of dewdrops.
ย
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ***
ย
The Flask Of The Poem Broke
ย
The flask of the poem broke,
But surprisingly, the sound of its breaking
On the shiny floor
Does not pierce my heart
Like an arrow!
Along with the roots,
I also came out.
The flask is covered in blood;
The explosion fills the room!
ย
Old refrains,
Holding verse notebooks,
Strut throughout the town.
The nail of poetry-music
Bothers my ears, day and night.
The butterfly of meters prances on the page.
Feeble threads of poetic beats,
Doves of verses,
Fly over the seven skies.
Ruins of symbolism lie deserted.
Windows of metaphors remain closed.
There are pigeons of words,
Feelings, dreams and desires,
Pigeons of rhythm, beat and aesthetics,
But their wings are wounded with bullets.
ย
I have everything:
Knife, hammer, nails and paper,
But the poem never takes shape.
ย
All night, the stars
Pluck at the harp of my heart,
But the poem never takes shape.
The flask of the poem broke….
ย
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ***
ย
Paintings Of Ram Kumar*
ย
If you scratch
The paintings with the colors
Of depleted old walls,
The heart lights up.
A lonely laborer
And the pain
On the faces of lost people:
Under the layers of paint
Lie pain, spirituality and loneliness.
ย
Houses have replaced human beings.
Houses now tell stories
Of their walls,
Their windows
And their barren shadows.
ย
The houses like cobwebs,
Look like windows,
Like crooked lanes.
Black and maroon lines,
Show a new world every day.
….
ย
*Ram Kumar (b. 1924) is one of the painters of the Progressive Writersโ Group, which include M. F. Hussain, Tayeb Mehta, S. H. Raza and the other famous painters; he is known especially for his abstract paintings.
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ***
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย (Translated from Urdu byย Baidar Bakht)
ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ย ****
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Authors
Jayant Parmar, born on 11 October 1954, a well-known Indian Urdu language poet, artist and calligrapher, writes both in Urdu and Gujarati. He is known for raising Dalit issues in his poetry. Parmar was born in a poor family. Since he had developed an appreciation and taste for Urdu poetry while living in the walled city area of Ahmadabad, he taught himself Urdu from a language learning guide at the age 30 after.Parmar has published seven collections of Urdu poems: โ๐๐ถ๐ณโ (1999), โ๐๐ฆ๐ฏ๐ค๐ช๐ญ ๐๐ถ๐ณ ๐๐ฐ๐ฐ๐ด๐ณ๐ช ๐๐ข๐ป๐ฎ๐ฆ๐ช๐ฏโ (2006), โ๐๐ข๐ข๐ฏ๐ช๐ฏ๐ฅโ (2007), โ๐๐ฏ๐ต๐ณ๐ข๐ข๐ญโ (2010), โ๐๐ข๐ป๐ฎ ๐ ๐ข๐ข๐ฏ๐ชโ (2013), โ๐๐ช๐ข๐ค๐ฐ๐ฎ๐ฆ๐ต๐ต๐ช ๐๐ฆ ๐๐ข๐ฑ๐ฏ๐ฆโ, (2016) and โ๐๐ถ๐ฒ๐ต๐ข ๐๐ถ๐ณ ๐๐ฐ๐ฐ๐ด๐ณ๐ช ๐๐ข๐ป๐ฎ๐ฆ๐ช๐ฏโ (2019). He is recipient of Sahitya Academi Award, 2009 for his book โ๐๐ฆ๐ฏ๐ค๐ช๐ญ ๐๐ถ๐ณ ๐๐ฐ๐ฐ๐ด๐ณ๐ช ๐๐ข๐ป๐ฎ๐ฆ๐ช๐ฏโ, Bhasha Bharti Samman, 2006 for โ๐๐ถ๐ณโ, Gujarat Sahitya Academi Award, Bhartiya Dalit Sahitya Academi (2002) and Dr. Babasaheb Ambedkar Jeevan Gaurav Puraskaar (2020) etc. His works has been translated into Hindi, English, Punjabi, Assami, Telugu, Bangla, Kashmiri, Tamil, Kannada, Malyalam, Nepali, Marathi and also in various other languages like Slovenian and Spanish
View all postsBaidar Bakht, born in 1940, took his first degree in civil engineering from Aligarh, and M.Sc. and D.Sc from London University. He is a bridge engineer by profession, but now retired from full-time employment. He is Adjunct Professor of civil engineering at the universities of Toronto and Manitoba. He is renowned for his translations of modern Urdu poetry into English. Since 1974, Baidar Bakht has been living in Toronto, Canada, with his family.
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Excellent translation and presentation. Thank you lexicon.
I read the poems of Jayant Parmar many year ago through our trend setter poet Saleem Shahzad . The poems inspired me then n still they keep me enchanted, put their spell upon me.
This work is getting fantabulous day by day and seriously the legendary wording casts a speel on the mind of a person
Beautiful poems
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