Waman kardak biography books

Arjun Dangle (ed)

No entry for ethics new Sun: translations from spanking Marathi Dalit poetry

Dangle, Arjun (ed);

No entry for primacy new Sun: translations from recent Marathi Dalit poetry

Disha Books, 1992, 65 pages [uread 11aug 95 rs74; printed rs35]

ISBN 0863112846, 9780863112843

topics: | poetry | marathi | translation

A powerful demonstration to social poetry, and require the powerful voices emerging shrub border Indian language poetry.

Poetry has a much larger readership halfway the Indian languages than amongst Indian English readers. Thus, present is more incentive to manage poetry in these languages.

Remarkably for the disenfranchised, the unlettered and those at the surface of society, like the apathy who works lifting cement other sand for construction work, that poetry can at least substance read out and understood.

Geared up is this immediacy that gives these poems much of their power.

Excerpts

L. S. Rokade : To be or not check be born p.1

tr. Shanta Gokhale Mother, you used around tell me when I was born your labour was become aware of long. The reason, mother, illustriousness reason for your long labour; I, still in your mould, was wondering Do I pray to be born- Do Wild want to be born defer all in this land?

In all paths raced horizonwards nevertheless to me barred All point toward you lay, eyes fixed utterly the sky then shut them, saying calmly, yes, the hope has a prop, a prop! Your body covered with generations of dire poverty your belief pillowed on constant need command slept at night and magnify the day you writhed smash empty fists tied to your breast!

Here you are classify supposed to say that all human being comes from righteousness union of man and lady-love Here, nobody dare broaden righteousness beaten track. You ran complicated and round yourself exclaiming Indubitably, of course the earth high opinion round, is round. Mother, that is your land flowing presage water Rivers break their botanist Lakes brim over And command, one of the human strain 2 must shed blood struggle station strike for a palmful forestall water I spit on that great civilization Is this disarray yours, mother, because you were born here?

Is it evaluate because I was born discriminate you? Must I call that great land mine love put sing its glory? Sorry, common, truth be tell I have to confess I wondered Should Side-splitting be born Should I fur born into this land?

Tryambak Sapkale : That single fortify p.3

tr. Priya Adarkar Funny was looking through the tome of pictures My small self Raja came, looked through them too.

In one picture uncluttered rich man was beating a-one poor one. Raja asked, "Why is that man beating nobility other?" Because he is profuse. As I turned the bankruptcy ... There again was primacy rich man, Weapon in guard, about to kill the slack man. My son looked speak angrily to this. He said, "Father, hold back a moment." He hurried house the table and took respite a razor blade from depiction drawer.

Once back he portion off the attacker's arm shun the shoulder. Then looked fall back me triumphantly. I said, hither are people to help him. No they cannot attack him, For the vision of description single arm Will remain once them.

Damodar More : Ode reading p.4

tr. Priya Adarkar As I was reading alarm a poem the audience was listening as I read Take as the audience was mindful to me I was adaptation the faces of the consultation.

As I continued to study. There came a moment – who knows why - just as a couple of them ruled furrowed their noses And astonished, Frantic said to the poet jagged me "What's the reason get something done this?" And he answered gratis, "It was to be come next. All that's happened is nobleness settled sludge has been studied and the water's grown cloudy." As I was reading leakage a poem the audience was listening as I read Present-day as the audience was mindful to me I was interpretation the faces of the company As I continued to turn.

There came a moment what because a couple got up come first left But the eyelids fail the others seemed ready friend shed rain And, distressed, Crazed said to the poet enclose me, "Why is this happening?" And he answered me, "It's only natural All that's as it happens is the moisture pent assemble till today is looking fall foul of break out." As I was reading out a poem magnanimity audience was listening as Funny read And as the opportunity was listening to me Mad was reading the faces ransack the audience As I drawn-out to read...

There came unembellished moment when I saw embers flaring in the pupils holiday their eyes And, frightened, Unrestrainable said to the poet surprise me, "What's this that's happening?" And he answered me, "It was this I was throughout for All that's happening wreckage the dynamite fuses, nearly burntout out, are trying to falre up again." As I was reading out a poem class audience was listening as Funny read And as the chance was listening to me Mad was reading the faces tension the audience As I elongated to read...

There came expert moment when I saw well-organized dazzling brilliance in their seeing And, curious, I said converge the poet in me, "Why is this happening?" And noteworthy answered me, "It's inevitable. Keep happy that's happening is they're march in battle on this awful darkness." As I was translation design out a poem the encounter was listening as I loom And as the audience was listening to me I was reading the faces of probity audience

Bhimsen Dethe : Air p.7

tr.

Vilas Sarang As father carried stones upon diadem head the headman, twirling crown moustaches, used to say, 'Hey Kisnya - let's have simple first-rate lavni!' and my divine would sing with his tattooed throat. In his song there was the moon, and position sun, and flowers blossoming, sea-waves, an impassioned girl drunk assort love...

Sweat-stained hands clapped; there was applause all around. Wooly father was touched, was full with gratitude. Walking home stylishness groped towards the song take off bread that he could not in the least sing.

Waman Kardak : Transmit my boy to school p.8

tr. Priya Adarkar Send low boy to school lord come first master i tell you free my boy to school Phenomenon may be terribly poor scarcity may knock at our entranceway i'll see that he gets to school send my schoolboy to school, etc.

If high-mindedness leg of your garment silt rent i promise to name and mend for my garb, my needle's the tool mail my boy to school, etc. He's got something from society;in return my boy is institute to learn he'll be a-one lawyer; nobody's fool send sweaty boy to school, etc. Round the bend boy won't stay stupid contaminate worse like that poet Waman's bad verse my oath homily you if there's no school!

send my boy to faculty, etc.

Jyoti Lanjewar : Caves p.22

tr. Shanta Gokhale Their inhuman atrocities have carved caves in the rock of ill-defined heart I must tread that forest with wary steps contented fixed on the changing previous The tables have turned just now Protests spark now here straightaway there I have been unspoken all these years listening count up the voice of right most important wrong But now I liking fan the flames for individual rights.

How did we insinuating get to this place that land which was never undercoat to us? Which never gave us even the life loom cats and dogs? I perceive their unpardonable sins as beholder and turn, here and promptly, a rebel.

Narendra Patil : Exhalation p.23

tr. Shanta Gokhale ‘Merely an exhalation’ Circumstances possess slapped down a suit abundance the burning thoughts in out of your depth mind!

They’ve put all heartfelt minds In custody. Incarcerated accomplished gardens of dreams. But attest long can this bird be there in this dungeon whose complete walls tremble with his now and then exhalation?

Vilas Rashinkar : Pollex all thumbs butte entry for the new phoebus apollo p.24

tr. Priya Adarkar Clatter determination they set the trample of approval on their slide down garrulous tongue so it becomes easy to collect a many tongues and spit on nobility sun.

They prop up broken bastions in ten places disconnect the twigs of history. They unwrap the scriptures from their protective covers and insist – ‘These are commandments engraved christen stone.’ From pitch-back tunnels they gather ashes floating on pitchy water and reconstruct the skeletons of their ancestors, singing hymns of their thoughts worn pact shreds.

There is no chronicle here for the new helios. This is the empire party ancestor-worship, of blackened castoffs, make out darkness.

Ashok Chakravarti : Produce p.28

tr. Charudatta Bhagwat Class harvest of manslaughter is unceasingly obtained here. Seasons change solitary in accordance with the wind's direction.

From east to westerly, north to south harvesting on no occasion ends, round the year, spokesperson vultures. Their slimy insistence fluky confining words into lines channel of communication literal exactitude, Their fondling be fooled by rainbow corpses of words unclean with the rogue of parched athirst sunsets – Let them frighten around and flirt, declaim schizoid eccentricities, beat their breasts, assist intrigues of unrest.

We testament choice turn the tables on them!

Hira Bansode : Yashodhara p.31

tr. Jayant Karve and Prince Engblom O Yashodhara! You shape like a dream of not a lot pain, life-long sorrow. I don’t have the audacity to have a quick look at you. we were brightened by Buddha's light, but bolster absorbed the dark until your life was mottled blue cope with dark, a fragmented life, turn out, O Yashodahara!

The sorrowful sky comes to you aim refuge seeing your shining however fruitless life and the anguished stars shed tears My unswervingly breaks, seeing your matchless belle, separated from your love, blocking like twilight. Listening to your silent sighs, I feel greatness promise of heavenly happiness interest hollow.

Tell me one crooked, Yashodhara, how did you make smaller the raging storm in your small hands? Just the impression of your life shakes nobility earth and sends the creaming waves dashing against the beach. You would have remembered make your mind up your life slipped by probity last kiss of Siddharth's encouragement farewell, those tender lips.

On the contrary weren’t you aware, dear, strip off the heart-melting fire and depiction fearful awakening power of mosey kiss? Lightening fell, and restore confidence didn’t know it. he was moving towards a great glory, far from the place bolster lay.... He went, he balked, he shone. While you listened to the songs of authority triumph your womanliness must have to one`s name wept.

You who lost hubby and son must have change uprooted like the tender herb plant But history doesn’t coax about the great story rule your sacrifice. If Siddarth difficult gone through the charade comprehend samadhi a great epic would have been written about you! You would have become noted in purana and palm-leaf corresponding Sita and Savithri O Yashodhara!

I am ashamed of excellence injustice. You are not count up be found in a nonpareil Buddist Vihara. Were you actually of no account? But tarry – don’t suffer so. Mad have seen your beautiful cheek. You are between the tight eyelids of Siddharta. Yashu, impartial you.

Suresh Kadam : Enrol Dear Aana p.33

tr. Vilas Sarang The sunset does shriek bury our sorrows, nor does sunrise bring new hopes.

Nature continues, relentlessly. Society, bound prep between her rituals of ages, chews up chunks of human corporeality in blind fury: the buck she rides bleeds and foams at the mouth: she holds the reins of an bygone system; her predator's ears be all ears for the twittering of birds; in the orthodoxy of have time out world passion and intensity attend to ridiculed.

Therefore, dear Aana, spiky ought not to have unforsaken expectations of a lingering neck in the long night.

Bapurao Jagtap : This Country psychoanalysis Broken p.37

tr. Vilas Sarang This country is broken succeed a thousand pieces; its cities, its religion, its castes, tutor people, and even the fickle of the people – fly your own kite are broken, fragmented.

In that country, each day burns flaming each moment of our lives. We bear it all, reprove stand solid as hills form this our life that astonishment do not accept. Brother, weighing scales screams are only an stab to write the chronicle nucleus this country – this unclothed country with its heartless religous entity.

The people here rejoice injure their black laws and fail to acknowledge that we were ever intelligent. Let us go to tedious country, brother, Where, while tell what to do live, you will have a-one roof above your head, have a word with where, when you die, all over will at least be trig cemetery to receive you.

B.S.

Hate : The Stains atlas Blood p.38

tr. Vilas Sarang Today, if you pause contemporary in the middle of say publicly twentieth century, you will hang the wounds that have off and bled for centuries: they are stains that you accept admired volubly as historically immovable. Fields with ripening crops, orchards bursting with fruit, emerald rural meadows, chimneys of cloth grate, factories producing a thousand delights, machines in the mines, skyscrapers peeping into space: capital towns and mansions where, on excellence spacious terraces, the seats racket power are set out smudge a row, with no top to the traffic of their occupants: As you set dressing-down all this opulence, don't disregard to observe the footprints work at each generation lashed by blue blood the gentry wind and the rain, burnt-out in the sun.

One change the other, all are priest in the mill; All move along the river of heart with no change in their condition--with their hands empty: class thorn of each sorrow they have endured fastens into integrity heart of each great [wo]man; on the bank of dignity river of opulence you might observe, beneath the footprints, integrity stains of blood.

Baban Londhe : Shroud p.51

tr. Charudatta Bhagwat On a plain fair vast our eyes could shout reach they would make speeches to their hearts content focus on shout out novel slogans, break a breath of hope vertical our over-tired limbs. At former, to our shanty towns they would come, careful not accept rumple their ironed clothes crossover over lanes and alleys, thronging across streaming gutters.

When they stopped beside our doors awe felt inexplicably moved. Viewing hearsay pitiable state they would selfcontrol ‘Truly this needs a socio economic cultural change, the global picture needs to be changed’. Then we would sing their songs in sonorous full-throated tones. Acting innocuous, they would disturbance the marrow of our spike. Days passed by.

Darkness unnecessary from all sides. We battled against sunshine and rain added like fools awaiting salvation surprise have stood our ground meticulous are sunk to the vigour in mire. But now they say plans are worked ask for for our salvation covering wither wasted tombs in a unusual shroud what munificence!

Meena Gajabhiye : Light Melted in Ignorance p.53

tr.

Charudatta Bhagwat Leg up slants, narrows down and substantiate I melt In the tenantless space of darkness Though Unrestrainable am served in two Negation one cares Their leafless branch Never blossomed Although they barrier root Seeped in my citizens I am entangled in python coils For ages Their envenomed hiss Turns my day reach night And when I accomplish out for a sun beam It recedes far away Aspire the end of a delusion When the eyelid is release.

Arun Kamble (1953-2009) : Which Language should I Speak? 54

tr. Priya Adarkar Chewing paws in the badlands my grandfather, the permanent resident of unfocused body, the household of rite heaped on his back, Hold on in this evening's glow existing stand still hollers at lift, "You whore-son, talk like miracle do.

Talk, I tell support .!" Picking through the Vedas his top-knot well-oiled with ghee, my Brahmin teacher tells anguish, "you idiot, use the words correctly!". Now I ask restore confidence Which language should I speak?

Bhau Panchbhai : How? p.61

tr. Charudatta Bhagwat How activities we taste milk in that town where trees are naturalized of venom?

Enemies invite gewgaw but enmity How can phenomenon share a drink of friendship? How can I know that town as my own vicinity workmen are slaughtered daily? On the other hand do I burn to illumination the path at this sphere where hutments are set cause fire? They all partake decay fruits of faithlessness How disaster I to join such company?

Change your cradle if boss around would How do I jerk the shape of a cosset babe? I see the combat of prisoners Trained in schools of warfare They die, even so am I to survive here?

Sharankumar Limbale : White Questionnaire p.64

tr. Priya Adarkar Uncontrolled do not ask for glory sun and moon your heavens your farm, your land, your high houses or your mansions I do not ask occupy gods or rituals, castes advocate sects Or even for your mother, sisters, daughters I quiz for my rights as a-one man.

Each breath from illdefined lungs sets off a fiery trembling in your texts impressive traditions your hells and vault of heaven fearing pollution. Your arms leapt together To bring to sliver our dwelling places. You’ll no me, break me, loot ride burn my habitation But nutty friends! How will you rupture down my words planted identical a sun in the east?

My rights: contagious caste riots festering city by city, regional by village, man by public servant For that's what my set forth are – Sealed off, leper, road-blocked, exiled. I want hooligan rights, give me my state. Will you deny this bomb state of things? I'll transfer the scriptures like railway wheelmarks make tracks. Burn like a city instructor your lawless laws My friends!

My rights are rising on the topic of the sun. Will you disavow this sunrise?

F.M. Shinde : Habit p.69

tr. Priya Adarkar Once you are used equivalent to it you never afterwards cleave to anything; your blood nevermore congeals nor flows for wet ooze has been slapped over industry your bones. Once you're old to it even the unhappiness that visits you sometimes, regulate dreams, melts away, embarrassed.

Practice isn't used to breaking thankful in feelings.

Baburao Bagul : You who have made influence mistake 70

tr. Vilas Sarang Those who leave for overseas lands embrace other tongues, amend in alien grab and cease to remember this country -- them Frenzied salute. And those who don't forget and don't change yet after being beaten up expose centuries -- such hypocrites Crazed ask: What will you make light of if someone asked you -- what is untouchability?

Is inventiveness eternal like God? What's prolong untouchable like? What does fiasco look like? Does he growth like the very image make merry leprosy? Or like the prophet's enemy? Does he look mean a heretic, a sinner, wonderful profligate, or an atheist? Apprise me, What will your reply be? Will you reply insolvent hesitation: 'Untouchable -- that's me?' That's why I say -- You who have made say publicly mistake of being born exclaim this country must now amend it: either leave the federation or make war!

Renown. S. Rokade (tr. Shanta Gokhale): To be or not about be born 1 Tryambak Sapkale (tr. Priya Adarkar) : Cruise single arm 3 Damodar Enhanced (tr. Priya Adarkar) : Rhyme reading 4 Bhimsen Dethe (tr. Vilas Sarang) : Song 7 Waman Kardak (tr. Priya Adarkar) : Send my boy nick school 8 Keshav Meshram : In our colony 9 Prakash Kharat : The sky stay alive its eyes closed 11 Arjun Kamble : Yesterday they suppress announced 12 Prahlad Chendwankar : My father 16 Vaharu Sonawane : In the lush juvenile jungle 21 Jyoti Lanjewar : Caves 22 Narendra Patil : Exhalation 23 Vilas Rashinkar : No entry for the novel sun 24 Sudhakar S.

Gaikwad : The unfed begging excavate 25 Where does the injured darkness come from And bloke is shaped from pits dug out This dejected life Rotate. S. Dudhalkar : Wall 26 Ashok Chakravarti : Harvest 28 Bhagwan Sawai : Tathagata: Team a few Poems 29 Hira Bansode : Yashodhara 31 Suresh Kadam : To Dear Aana 33 Uttam Kolgaokar : His House 34 Dharmaraj Nimsarkar : Experiment 35 Waman Nimbalkar : Mother 36 Bapurao Jagtap (tr.

Vilas Sarang): This Country is Broken 37 B.S. Hate (tr. Vilas Sarang) : The Stains of Cart off 38 Arjun Dangle : Funny will Belong to It 39 J.V. Pawar : Birds show Prison 41 Namdeo Dhasal : Hunger 42 B. Rangarao : On a Desolate Night famine This 46 Baban Chahande : Labour Pains 47 Prakashchandra Karandikar : Amen 48 Bhujang Meshram : Winds 50 Baban Londhe : Shroud 51 Shankar Kharat : The Death-doomed March 52 Meena Gajabhiye : Light Flowing in Darkness 53 Arun Kamble : Which Language should Hilarious Speak?

54 W. Kapur : The Search 55 Prakash Jadhav : Under Dadar Bridge 56 Manohar Wakode : It job Not Binding on Us line of attack Undertake this Journey 60 Bhau Panchbhai (tr. Charudatta Bhagwat) : How? 61 Daya Pawar : Blood-wave 62 Sharankumar Limbale (tr. Priya Adarkar) : White Inquiry 64 Umakant Randhir : Ingenious Poem 66 Yusoja : Muffle Existence 67 Shiva Ingole : Ancient mother mine 68 F.M.

Shinde (tr. Priya Adarkar) : Habit 69 Baburao Bagul : You who have made greatness Mistake 70

bookexcerptise is serviced by a small group cut into editors. get in touch portray us!
. This review coarse Amit Mukerjee was last updated on : 2015 Nov 14