Monday, November 29, 2010

Where the sidewalk ends

" Rabbit Hole" by Neha

There is a place where the sidewalk ends
And before the street begins,
And there the grass grows soft and white,
And there the sun burns crimson bright,
And there the moon-bird rests from his flight
To cool in the peppermint wind.

Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
And the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And watch where the chalk-white arrows go
To the place where the sidewalk ends.

Yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
For the children, they mark, and the children, they know
The place where the sidewalk ends.

- Shel Silverstein

Sunday, November 14, 2010

He wishes for the cloths of heaven

"Wheat Field with Cypresses" by Vincent Van Gogh


HAD I the heavens’ embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

- W.B. Yeats

I love this beautiful recital from the movie " 84 Charing Cross Road" on YouTube : http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lNeq7Dakv_k&feature=related

Saturday, November 13, 2010

Jo tera tha

"Droplets" by Neha

Jo maal tera tha kal tak wo ab paraye ka hai
Yahi rivaz mere shahar ki saraye ka hai

Isiliye to musalsal shikast khate hai
Hamari fauj main senapati kiraye ka hai

Jo doston ki tarah milta hai andhere main
Wohi ujala to dushman hamare saaye ka hai

Dikhai deta hai jo bhediye ke honthon par
Wo laal doodh hamari safed gaaye ka hai

Sharif log bhi 'rahat' se milne julne lage
Wo ab sharab ka aashiq nahi hai chaaye ka hai

- Rahat Indori

Thursday, November 11, 2010

I do not love you

"Fluid " by Neha

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,

or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.

- Pablo Neruda ( Translated from Cien Sonetos de Amor - 100 Love Sonnets )

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

A child said, what is grass?

" Greenplay" by Neha

A child said, What is the grass? fetching it to me with full
hands;
How could I answer the child?. . . .I do not know what it
is any more than he.

I guess it must be the flag of my disposition, out of hopeful
green stuff woven.

Or I guess it is the handkerchief of the Lord,
A scented gift and remembrancer designedly dropped,
Bearing the owner's name someway in the corners, that we
may see and remark, and say Whose?

Or I guess the grass is itself a child. . . .the produced babe
of the vegetation.

Or I guess it is a uniform hieroglyphic,
And it means, Sprouting alike in broad zones and narrow
zones,
Growing among black folks as among white,
Kanuck, Tuckahoe, Congressman, Cuff, I give them the
same, I receive them the same.

And now it seems to me the beautiful uncut hair of graves.

Tenderly will I use you curling grass,
It may be you transpire from the breasts of young men,
It may be if I had known them I would have loved them;
It may be you are from old people and from women, and
from offspring taken soon out of their mother's laps,
And here you are the mother's laps.

This grass is very dark to be from the white heads of old
mothers,
Darker than the colorless beards of old men,
Dark to come from under the faint red roofs of mouths.

O I perceive after all so many uttering tongues!
And I perceive they do not come from the roofs of mouths
for nothing.

I wish I could translate the hints about the dead young men
and women,
And the hints about old men and mothers, and the offspring
taken soon out of their laps.

What do you think has become of the young and old men?
What do you think has become of the women and
children?

They are alive and well somewhere;
The smallest sprouts show there is really no death,
And if ever there was it led forward life, and does not wait
at the end to arrest it,
And ceased the moment life appeared.

All goes onward and outward. . . .and nothing collapses,
And to die is different from what any one supposed, and
luckier.

Monday, November 08, 2010

Naseeb Aasmaney ke Din aa Gaye

"Red" by Neha

naseeb aazamaaney ke din aa rahe hain
qareeb un ke aaney ke din aa rahe hain

jo dil se kahaa hai jo dil se sunaa hai
sab un ko sunaane ke din aa rahe hain

abhii se dil-o-jaa.N sar-e-raah rakh do
ke lutane lutaane ke din aa rahe hain

Tapakaney lagii un nigaahon se mastii
nigaahe.n churaane ke din aa rahe hain

sabaa phir hamein poochtee phir rahii hai
chaman ko sajaaney ke din aa rahe hain

chalo "Faiz" phir se kahii.n dil lagaayen
sunaa hai thikaaney ke din aa rahe hai.n

- Faiz Ahmed Faiz

असर उसको ज़रा नहीं होता

असर उसको ज़रा नहीं होता
रंज राह्तफ़ज़ा नहीं होता

तुम हमारे किसी तरह न हुए
वरना दुनिया में क्या नहीं होता

नारसाई से दम रुके तो रुके
मैं किसी से ख़फ़ा नहीं होता

तुम मेरे पास होते हो गोया
जब कोई दूसरा नहीं होता

हाल-ए-दिल यार को लिखूं क्यूं कर
हाथ दिल से जुदा नहीं होता

दामन उसका जो है दराज़ तो हो
दस्ते आशिक़ रसा नहीं होता

किसको है ज़ौक़-ए-तल्ख़्कामी लैक
जंग बिन कुछ मज़ा नहीं होता

चारा-ए-दिल सिवाए सब्र नहीं
सो तुम्हारे सिवा नहीं होता

क्यों सुने अर्ज़-ए-मुज़्तर ऐ मोमिन
सनम आख़िर ख़ुदा नहीं होता

- मोमिन