Short Poems

If my Valentine you won't be,
I'll hang myself on your Christmas tree.

vahii utaratii thii jaise payambaro.n ke liye
teraa Khayaal mere zahan par utarataa hai
har ek samt ujaalaa saa phail jaataa hai
Khud apane aap pe bhii ye gumaa.N guzarataa hai
zamiin huu.N mai.n, sama.ndar kii tah se ubharaa huu.N

उठहु उठहु प्रभु त्रिभुवन राई ।
तिनके अरिन देहु अकुलाई ।
रन महँ तिनहिं गिरावहु मारी ।
सब सुख दारिद दूर बहाओ ।
विद्या और कला फैलाओ ।
हमरे घर मँह शांति बसाओ ।
देहु असीस हमै सुखकारी ।

I too have a garret of old playthings.
I have tin soldiers with broken arms upstairs.
I have a wagon and the wheels gone upstairs.
I have guns and a drum, a jumping-jack and a magic lantern.
And dust is on them and I never look at them upstairs.
I too have a garret of old playthings.

Wonder as of old things
Fresh and fair come back
Hangs over pasture and road.
Lush in the lowland grasses rise
And upland beckons to upland.
The great strong hills are humble.

On Evidence, on Deeds, on Bills,
On Copyhold, on Loans, on Wills,
Lawyers great books indite;
The creaking of their busy quills
I've never heard on Right.

Unrisen splendour of the brightest sun,
To rise upon our darkness, if the star
Now beckoning thee out of thy misty throne
Could thaw the clouds which wage an obscure war
With thy young brightness!

ROBE d'or, mais rien ne veut
Qu'une rose à ses cheveux.
A golden robe, yet will she wear
Only a rose in her golden hair.

CON manto d'oro, collana, ed anelli,
Le piace aver con quelli
Non altro che una rosa ai suoi capelli.
WITH golden mantle, rings, and necklace fair,
It likes her best to wear
Only a rose within her golden hair.

In this little Urne is laid
Prewdence Baldwin (once my maid)
From whose happy spark here let
Spring the purple violet.