dabi hui hai mere labon mein kaheen pe wo ah bhee jo ab tak
na shola ban k bharak saki hai na ashk-e-besud ban k nikali
ghuTi hui hai nafas ki had main jala diya jo jala saki hai
na shama ban kar pighal saki hai na aj tak dud ban k nikali
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Buried all of his libretti,
Thought the matter over - then
Went and dug them up again.
In shadowed gorges
erect pink bracts brim with rain
unseen, turmeric roots engorge.
Cups without wine are low things
Like a pot thrown to the ground,
But brimming with the juice, they shine
Like body and soul.
Translated by Robert Mezey
When from his cave, young Mao in his youthful mind
A work to renew old China first designed,
Then he alone interpreted the law,
and from tradtional fountains scorned to draw:
But when to examine every part he came,
Marx and Confucius turned out much the same.
not on my lips look for your mouth,
not in front of the gate for the stranger,
not in the eye for the tear.
seven nights higher red makes for red,
seven hearts deeper the hand knocks on the gate,
seven roses later plashes the fountain.
Yellow clouds beside the walls; crows near the tower.
Flying back, they caw, caw; calling in the boughs.
In the loom she weaves brocade, the Qin river girl.
Made of emerald yarn like mist, the window hides her words.
She stops the shuttle, sorrowful, and thinks of the distant man.
She stays alone in the lonely room, her tears just like the rain.
There are too many kids in this tub
There are too many elbows to scrub
I just washed a behind that I'm sure wasn't mine
There are too many kids in this tub.
Every morning a crow
Crows harshly by the window
If I were a crow
I’ll build a house
By the cold shade of the tree
I’ll wait for you for years after years
Counting every seconds.
Senescence begins
And middle age ends
The day your descendents
Outnumber your friends.
