Translations Poetry

1 | P a g e     Kahlil Gibran  War and Small Nations  Hcn-¡Â, ]pÂta-«n XÅ-bm-Sn-s\m¸w tabp¶ Ipªns\ t\m«-an«v Hcp Igp-I³ A§p-bsc BIm-i-¯n h«-an«p ]d-¶p. CcbpsS tatebv¡p ]d-¶n-d-§m³ XpS-§p-t¼mtgbv¡v asämcp Igp-I³ AtX BÀ¯n-tbmsS A½-bpsSbpw Ipªn-sâbpw tate t\m«-a-b-bv¡p-¶p. t]mÀhn-fn-IÄ apg-¡n-s¡m−v Ah-cn-cp-hcpw BIm-i-¯n FXn-cn-«p. Xe-bp-bÀ¯n-t\m-¡nb XÅ-bmSv BÝcyw ]q−p. AhÄ Ipªnt\mSp ]dªp, “al-¯p-¡-fmb Cu c−p ]£n-IÄ X½n-e-Sn-¡p-¶Xv F{X hnNn-{X-am-bn-cn-¡p¶p Iptª. hnim-e-amb Cu BImiw AhÀ¡ncp-hÀ¡pw aXn-bm-In-sÃt¶m? Iptª \o {]mÀ°n-¡p-I, NndIpÅ \nsâbo ktlm-Z-c-§Ä X½n kam-[m-\-¯n hÀ¯n-t¡Wta F¶v \nsâ-bp-Ån-sâ-bp-Ån \o ssZh-t¯mSv At]-£n-¡p-I.” At¸mÄ IpªmSv AhÀ¡p-th−n lrZ-b-]qÀÆw {]mÀ°n-¨p.

2 | P a g e     Kamala Das  Middle Age  a[y-h-b-sÊ-¯p-¶-sX-s¸m-sgt¶m? Iq«p-Im-cm-bn-cp¶ a¡Ä I\¯ apJhpw ap\-bpÅ \mhp-ambn hnaÀi\w XpS-§p-t¼mÄ ]cp-¡³ ]Iz-X-bpsS al-Xzhpw t]dn sIm¡q-Wp-IÄ XIÀ¯ ]yq¸-sb-t¸mse AhÀ Fgp-¶-Åp¶ Ime-amW-Xv. A¶-hÀ¡v Nmb hnf-¼m\pw XpWn CkvXn-cn-bn-Sm\pw am{Xw aXn-bmIpw \n§sf \n§tfm! Ah-cn-Ãm-sX-sbm-¶p-an-sö a«m-bn-cn¡pw A{X-ta \n§Ä¡-hsc thW-sa-t¶mWw Hä-bv¡m-Ip-t¼mÄ Ah-cpsS ]pkvI-§fpw aäp hI-Ifpw sXm«p-X-Shn kzIm-cy-ambn Ccp¶p tX§p-¶p. a[y-h-b-sÊ-¯p-¶-sX-s¸m-sgt¶m? shdn-]q− apJw Xncn¨v aI³ ‘kz]v\-tem-I-¯m-Wn-{X-Imew Pohn-¨-X½ DW-cm-\nXm Ime-ambn ]−-s¯-s¨-dp-¸-a-Ãn-t¸m-sg-¶-tXmÀ½-bntÃ’ F¶-e-dp-t¼mÄ. ]s−m-cn-¡Â Im\-\-hn-cp-¶n\v A®m-d-¡-®sâ £W-¡¯v Dd-¡an-f¨p kzÀ®-a-jn-bmse-gpXn cm{Xn-Xs¶ Ipªp-a-I¶p t]mÌv sNbvX-Xp-a-h³ ad-¶p-t]mtbm!

3 | P a g e     Pablo Neruda  Tonight I can write the saddest lines.  Gähpw k¦Sw Xpfp-¼p¶ hcn-IÄ Cs¶\n-s¡-gpXmw BIm-i¯p Npän-¨p-gn-Xn-cnªv cm¡mäp ]mSp¶p ‘cmhnXm s]m«n-¯-IÀ¶n-cn-¡p¶p A§-Ise \oe-\-£-{X-§Ä hnd-sIm-Åp¶p’ F¶ a«n Gähpw k¦Sw Xpfp-¼p¶ hcn-IÄ Cs¶\n-s¡-gpXmw Ahsf Rm³ kvt\ln-¨p, Nne-t\-c-§-fn AhÄ Fs¶bpw CXm, CXp-t]m-se-bpÅ cm{Xn-I-fn Ahsf Rms\sâ Ic-§-fn tImcn-sb-Sp¯p A\-´-amb BIm-i-¯n\p Iogn Ahsf Rm³ sXcp-sXsc Npw_n¨p. Ah-sfs¶ kvt\ln-¨p, Nne-t\-c-§-fn Rm³ Ah-sfbpw Ah-fpsS \nÝ-e-amb B henb t\{X-§sf kvt\ln-¡m-Xn-cn-¡m³ BÀ¡p Ign-tª-s\. Gähpw k¦Sw Xpfp-¼p¶ hcn-IÄ Cs¶\n-s¡-gpXmw Ah-sfsâ kz´-a-sÃ-t¶mÀ¡m³, Ahsf F\n¡p \jvS-s¸-s«-¶-dnbm³. Ah-fpsS Akm-¶n-²y-¯m IqSp-X _rl-Zm-Imcw ]q− B _rlZvcm{Xnsb {ihn-¡m³ ]pÂta-«n-te¡p aªp-Xp-Ån-sb-¶-t]mse Bßm-hn-te¡p hcn-IÄ hmÀ¶p-ho-gp-¶p. Fsâ kvt\l-¯n\v Ahsf ]nSn-¨p-\nÀ¯-\m-bn-sÃ-¦n-se´v? cmhnXm \£-{X-]q-cn-X-am-bn-cn-¡p¶p, Ahtfm Fsâ-sbm-¸-an-Ã-Xm-\pw. C{X-am-{X-ta-bp-Åq. Zqsc-bmtcm ]mSp-¶p. Zqsc.

4 | P a g e     Ahsf ssIhn-«p-t]m-bXn Fsâ-bm-ßmhv H«pw kzØ-aÃ. Ah-fp-sS-b-Sp-t¯¡p t]mIp-hm-s\-t¶mWw Fsâ ImgvN Ahsf¯ncbp¶p. Fsâ lrZbw Ah-sf-¯n-c-bp-¶p, Ahtfm Fsâ-sbm-¸-an-Ã-Xm-\pw. AtX cm{Xn AtX ac-§sf shÅ ]pX-¸n-¡p-¶p. AtX Imes¯ R§tfm, AtX amXn-cn-b-Ã-Xm\pw Rm\n-t¸m-f-hsf kvt\ln-¡p-¶n-Ã, AXp \nÝ-bw, F¦nepw F{Xam{Xw Rm\-hsf kvt\ln-¨n-cp-¶p. Ah-fpsS {ih-W-]p-S-§-fn-te-s¡-¯m³ Fsâ i_vZw Hcp Imän-s\t¯-Sn. asäm-cm-fp-tS-Xv. AhÄ asäm-cm-fp-tS-Xm-bn-t]m-epw. Fsâ t]mb-Ime Npw_-\-§Ä t]mse. Ah-fpsS i_vZw, Ah-fpsS Xnf-§p¶ ico-cw. Ah-fpsS A\-´-amb I®p-IÄ. Rm\n-t¸m-f-hsf kvt\ln-¡p-¶n-Ã, AXp \nÝ-bw, Hcp-]t£ Rm\hsf kvt\ln-¡p-¶p-−m-bn-cn-¡mw. kvt\l-sa{X {lkz-am-Wv, ad-hntbm \o−Xpw. Ah-Ä Fsâ-ta Npa-¯p¶ Ah-km-\s¯ s\m¼-c-amImw CXv, AhÄ¡p-th-−n-sb-gp-Xp¶ Ah-km-\-h-cn-I-fmhmw CXv. F¶mepw CXp-t]m-se-bpÅ cmhp-I-fn Ahsf Rm³ ssII-fn tImcn-sb-Sp¯n-cp-¶tÃm Ahsf ssIhn-«p-t]m-b-Xn Fsâ a\Êv Akz-Ø-am-Ip-¶p.

5 | P a g e     Tonight I can write the saddest lines. Write, for example, 'The night is shattered and the blue stars shiver in the distance.' The night wind revolves in the sky and sings. Tonight I can write the saddest lines. I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too. Through nights like this one I held her in my arms. I kissed her again and again under the endless sky. She loved me, sometimes I loved her too. How could one not have loved her great still eyes. Tonight I can write the saddest lines. To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her. To hear the immense night, still more immense without her. And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture. What does it matter that my love could not keep her. The night is starry and she is not with me. This is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the distance. My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her. My sight searches for her as though to go to her. My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.

6 | P a g e     The same night whitening the same trees. We, of that time, are no longer the same. I no longer love her, that's certain, but how I loved her. My voice tried to find the wind to touch her hearing. Another's. She will be another's. Like my kisses before. Her voice, her bright body. Her infinite eyes. I no longer love her, that's certain, but maybe I love her. Love is so short, forgetting is so long. Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms my soul is not satisfied that it has lost her. Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer and these the last verses that I write for her