An indelible signature

 The stream of consciousness, that is flowing in the mankind

is not giving healthy yields, from the  crops of civilization.

all the thoughts are travelling through shores of small delights

and are bidding farewell to purity and emollience by divorcing them.

The minds of the cruel and idiotic lot are putting forward steps

with ego -centric stances in a huff , and are also  polluting the time.

All the values binding the life are being filled with contemptuous poison .

All the voices of the age that bloom during spring times

are being twined to  halter noose .

The elegantly beautiful character is lacking everywhere.

and life has become a heavy load.

The human who is heavier in weight than life has turned as sage

and eventually the world now, needs HIS guidance.

and youth that  will march on the destined path,  is very well needed now.

All the paths that are spread far and wide with breaths of renouncing lot

have to resound,  with fragrant songs of flowers .

All the desires of mind's tunes are to be painted

as beautiful forms on the time's screen .

The tender hopes of tiny tots should sing octaves on green leaves.

At the time of the last phase in humans’ life,,   tears of joy should rain from their eyes. and ages where no sunsets are destined should be accessed.

All the arms that pump in slightly warmth blood, must oblate offerings to blazing Sun.

The buds of life must be bloomed .

The beautiful and charming sculpture made by the humans’ brain

 must also established,  in extreme delight and in high tone too.

In every house, life’s lamp kindled with love must glow endless

and the chant of divine  first note should sound from the deep depths of the heart.

As far as we dig out, many inexplicable wonders, start amazing the eyes.

and the elegance of creation, will scribble  an indelible signature on the plaque of the mind

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Slipping into dumb phase

All houses in the village have  latched the doors  tightly

as a guest, where should I go  now ?

I remained here, as an uninvited guest

All streets have no lights

Intermittent flash of light sparks them

when fireflies  sway high

and soundless silence hitherto unknown, is barking fiercely .

I wish that Human life must flourish like a beautifully flowering tree

with string of notes  excelling afresh and anew .

The stream that flows aside is exhibiting many charming beauties

and the life’s scripture  continuously is teaching lessons daily.

and the  bridleless mind,  is jumping like a galloping horse

and unconditioned  performance

is pushing the whole world into unfathomable depths of darkness

and new moon day,  is swallowing the entire sky

and unpolluted heart is getting perplexed

and the universal lyre is slipping into dumb phase.

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Telugu: Gottipati arasimhaswamy Trans/Eng: R. Purushothamarao

Swathi mutyalu (collection of poetry

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Saga in this tearful island?

Yes, once there was a village here

dreams of hard working lot

were revolving round it.

and there are  bunds, to protect their dreams

Now somebody, had swallowed my village

and broke down the safe guarding bunds.

 Yes, there was a cultivable land here

which provided life springs to all, for  decades together.

all around the farmland, the sky has become the green hedge then,

and today somebody had drowned my land

and made it a miring ground, duly suffocating it, for  needed breath.

Yes there was a temple here

in early dawn, devotional chants used to air, from these pious  precincts

They were raising hopes in all hearts, for tomorrow’s  better life.

Today this temple was in aqua-meditation, deeply  sunk in  water .

somebody has downed my swing once for all.

Yes there used to be an anicut here,

which paved way, to  water,  for irrigational facilities.

It lit up radiant lights on dark poles.

Somebody, now, has disturbed and spoiled the source

and threw it away uncared for,  in preparing thorny estimates

for in flow and outflow.

Yes there was once a river here

it used to stream as  green nests, from far off points

and transformed as morsel of food,  in cups of many hands.

Today somebody has cruelly made it worse.

and turned out, all the children of this motherland, to become  paupers

and filled their lives to the brim, with  utter cries alone.

How the sea which swells high on full moon day

can invite the puddle river to its bosom fold?

Though water is available all around,

how can this dirty water, quench the thirst,  of lots?

Who stole away my river, temple, anicut

green fields and above all  the mother like village?

How long this saga, to continue, in this tearful island?

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kaneeTi dweepavaasam---  From “Ragilina kshaNaalu “[vol of poetry]

Telugu : Dr. C.Bhavani Devi Trans/eng : Purushothamarao, Ravela

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experiencing an unbearable agony...

 Coming to this world, as sheer spectators

and enjoying the variety of creation to the soulful,

these persons are migrating to unknown destiny.

Unknowingly, uninterestingly, and indistinctly

are submerging all  their stream of thoughts in the sea of desires.

No single person who could bring out the secrets of creation

by opening the relevant  box, and who showed the eminent

gems of this world is available, in visible range.

Everybody is trekking on his own way and nobody is capable of explaining the beauty of creation and the magnum opus of this sacred book

with wider ramifications and with lovely thoughts and the stream of life

which flows uninterruptedly and inseparably and the roar of the sea of people who rushed in and rose like a flood and none could properly define all these odd situations and are trembling a lot.

They are slowly dropping down to earth in helpless situation

and are not able to show a propitious and delightful path

to the entire world,

and also not able to render any melodious song...

They are however opening their throat, and not able to spread joyous cloth all over the space,

But Oh lord! you stood as a befitting  answer to all these difficult questions.

At the opportune time when I dedicated myself to you

and in the desire filled anxious state of agonized feeling

how many flames flared up in awful vow of devotional act

the resounding extensive agonized burning tunes in the universal heart

may donate which of the promising tonal wealth !!!

got tired swimming restlessly, in the laborious sea of hard work

but could not reach to the hopeful shores  and the moon is raining moonshine on me who am meditating in the caves of dark silence

and the flute of my life is experiencing unbearable agony.

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Telugu: Gottipati Arasimhaswamy  Trans/Eng; R. Purushothamarao

 Swathi Mutyalu— (collection of poetry)

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Something practical and remarkable

 Not only the words that delight the world,

but also the unforgettable truths

sound in the deep depths of my heart, sweetly as   divine music .

In  astonishing and surprising ways

so many wordy sculptures,  are displayed before me  .

They squeeze my heart like sounds of flute.

and also fill up, my cup of hands with pure water drops

and carry the life,  with  dreams  afresh    and anew to other shores .

Oh ! lord !!

 I  strongly propose to distribute the  precious wealth of these words

you gifted me as,  a boon,  to this entire  world.

I wish  all, with a  loving heart , which is  radiantly afire 

that the whole  humans shall delightfully and joyously dance on the shores of love and affection,  with all elated zeal  for delightful music .

To anoint the delicate and finely tuned notes

and many more sculptures that symbolize charm and beauty

 to anoint another world and for this  with unstinted vow

I will oblate myself by to the fire

and make myself clean and pure,  like sacrificial fire.

I will decorate the world beautifully, with dreamy rainbows

sans any iota of  ego and envy .

Discharging the duties regularly in a perfect order, loving the humanity in all entirety and fixing myself in still position in the grave and not drowning myself in the worldly affairs , expressing emollient in humanness

The human who continues, with broadened thought process and not  embracing strongly,  any of the possessive relationships and bonds,

will definitely achieve something practical and remarkable.

Telugu: Gottipati Arasimhaswamy Trans/Eng; R. Purushothamarao

Swathi Mutyalu— (collection of poetry)

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Dance of the blissful creation

The electricity stopped its flow in today’s human,

and he is afraid of glancing at anything, that comes across him

and is  squarely shivering with all fear

Not at all glancing at the foot prints of history,

he is shutting, all   the doors of knowledge.

The history of human is pitiably afflicted by termites

and the metallic arms, duly rusted, are slowly getting decayed.

All the construction activity of great mansions, ceased as of now.

And all the paths are heavily crowded, and became totally dark.

Except lamentations and imprecations, no pure note on life is heard at all.

The static world is exhibiting, sorrowful pictures, drawn with darkest lines

and painted in sheer black.

The defeated human’s life is mirroring the treelike that of tree sans leaves  during autumn columns,  and  is completely and turned on to nude posture.

Oh lord !!!

Come on to the earth and bless us all,

Once you start sounding the melodious flute,

all the blunt hearts  start  to spring up, as  tender shoots.

and all the hard trunks of tree transform as  divine ones

All the hills and surrounding corners, get thrilled in ecstasy

and resound in extreme delight.

The moon in the sky, start to render mellifluous tunes

and all the flowers start, oblations in worship and devotion.

All ideas and thoughts with renewed energy, begin to bloom in stimulus anew and afresh.

and the fragrances of courteous flowers  bloomed in our garden sing duly

worshipping at your pious feet  .

The golden hopes fling on the life’s coral veena.

and an animated world manifests  in correlation

and the dance of the  blissful creation, makes us spell bound.

………..

Telugu: Gottipati arasimhaswamy   Trans/Eng; R. Purushothamarao

 Swathi mutyalu— (collection of poetry)

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