Monday, March 23, 2009

BURN!BURN!BURN!-Rajiv B Menon

My heart burns

Like a pyre of sandalwood

Smell the fragrance in every breath

 

Love melts the sun into my morning cup of tea.

 

I can still feel her shoulder against mine

Her bosom against my chest

Her cheek against mine

And the smell of her skin

As if I have transformed into her!

 

O night of exaggeration!

 

A piano crashes into the waves; a silent ocean

 

The moon is mauve

The sky wears a flowing wedding gown

The stars have turned into red roses

 

The address reads: Lover’s Castle

The wind will take you there

 

We made love the whole day

We made love the whole night

Me and her

Her and I

Orgasmic moments!!

 

Time is a mattress to roll on

 

O unabashed desires!

O articulate silences!

 

Fate burns in a furnace of consequence

Destiny – a love child

Illegitimate heartbeats

Run on naked feet in a cessepool of feelings

 

O slums of magic!

Jungle of tranquility!

Burn! Burn! Burn!

 

Lit up my guts with a million candles

Madonna and the boy child

Jesus of my spine

Krishna of my libido

Allah of my lips

 

“God is a voyeur.”

 

Thursday, March 12, 2009

I have dreamt so much of you-Robert Desnos

I have dreamt so much of you that you are losing your reality.

 

Is there still time to reach that living body and to kiss on that mouth the birth of the voice that is precious to me?

 

I have dreamt so much of you that my arms which as they embrace your shadow habitually fold across my breast would not bend to the contour of your body, perhaps.

 

And so much that, faced with the real appearance of that which has haunted me and ruled me for days and years, I would become a shadow I dare say.

 

O scales of feeling.

 

I have dreamt so much of you that there is no more time I dare say for me to awaken. I am sleeping on my feet, my body exposed to all the appearances of life and love and you, the only one who matters today for me, I could less readily touch your forehead and your lips than the lips and forehead of the first newcomer.

 

I have dreamt so much of you, walked, talked and slept so much with your phantom that all I have left perhaps, after all, is to be a phantom among phantoms and a hundred times more shadow than the shadow that moves and will move joyfully on the sundial of your life.

 

 

I never sent this poem to her! It would’ve exposed me. COMPLETELY. 

Monday, March 9, 2009

Jacques Prevert sizzles!!!!- The Dunce [ Le Cancre]

He says no with his head

But he says yes with his heart

He says yes to what he loves

He says no to the schoolmaster

He’s on his feet

He’s being questioned

And all the problems are set

Suddenly he is gripped by wild laughter

And he erases it all

Figures and words

Dates and names

Sentences and snares

And despite the master’s threats

To the jeers of the infant prodigies

With chalks of every color

On the blackboard of woe

He draws the face of happiness.

Pierre Reverdy et moi

“ Poetry is born of absence; Poetry is in what is not. In what we lack…Poetry is the link between us and absent reality.”- Thus said this French poet. This gap is tragic, but it is the poet’s reason for being.

 

And hence, there is an anguished sense of loss, of incompleteness and inner void permeating his work. He once described his writings as “crystals deposited after the effervescent contact of the mind with reality.”

 

Son of a wine grower, he was essentially a solitary man and at the age of thirty seven withdrew to the monastery of Solesmes and remained there until his death.

 

A pure poet, the eye often took priority over the ear in his poems.

 

Central Heating [ Chauffage Central]

 

A little light

You see a little light come down on your abdomen to light you up

-A woman stretches herself like a rocket-

In the corner over there a shadow is reading

Her feet swinging free are too pretty

 

Short-circuit in the heart

A breakdown in the motor

What magnet holds me up?

My eyes and my love are losing their way

 

A mere nothing

A fire we rekindle and which goes out

I’ve had enough of the wind

I’ve had enough of the sky

At heart all we see is artificial

Even your mouth

And yet I am hot where your hand touches me

 

The door is open and I don’t go in

I see your face and I don’t believe in it

You are pale

One evening when we were sad we wept on a trunk

Over there men were laughing

Nearly naked children sometimes strolled by

The water was clear

A red copper wire guides the light there

The sun and your heart are of the same substance

 

“The sun and your heart are of the same substance.” This was the message I sent [smsed] to Soha on Valentine’s Day three years ago. And her reply-“What a lovely message….thank you Rajiv.”

 

In fact, this [above] poem is the first of Reverdy’s poems that I read. And I believe that’s one of the best messages I’ve ever sent to a girl/woman.

 

And since then I’ve been in love with his poems and the woman I sent his poem to!!!!   

Monday, March 2, 2009

Dejeuner du matin[ Breakfast]-A poem by Jacques Prevert

Jacques Prevert was something of a phenomenon. A bestselling poet!!! He infused everyday experience and language with a poetic spirit. An astonishingly original perception with a deceptively child like quality- that’s what his poems are.

 

He put the coffee

In the cup

He put the milk

In the cup of coffee

He put the sugar

In the milky coffee

With the little spoon

He stirred

He drank the milky coffee

And he put down the cup

Without a word to me

He lit

A cigarette

He made rings

With the smoke

He put the ash

In the ashtray

Without a word to me

Without a glance at me

He stood up

He put

His hat on his head

He put

His raincoat on

Because it was raining

And he left

In the rain

Without a word

Without a glance at me

And as for me

I clasped

My head in my hand

And I wept.

 

The original in French is a “phonetic dream”.

 

Talking of rain, my mind wanders to a poem by Arthur Rimbaud, which goes:“ Il pleure dans mon coeur…Il pleut doucement sur la ville.”[There is weeping in my heart…Its raining gently on the city.]

 

It’s a hot and humid afternoon. I sit naked in my room. Listening to Ustad Rashid Khan singing “Raag Malhar” and I realize that sometimes a voice can do what an air conditioner can’t. I switch off the fan.

 

Trivia: Jacques Prevert is also the man who gave us “ Les Feuilles Mortes”, the famous song of the 40’s. Composed by Joseph Kosma, its  a perennial favorite with singers around the world. An English version of the song was sung by Nat King Cole called the “ Autumn Leaves”. The lyrics of the English version is quite mediocre compared to the French one by Prevert.

 

The falling leaves drift by the window

The autumn leaves of red and gold

I see your lips the summer kisses

The sun burned hand I used to hold

Since you went away the days grow long

And soon I’ll hear old winter’s song

But I miss you most of all my darling

When autumn leaves start to fall.

 

Compare this with the above lyric.

 

 C'est une chanson qui nous ressemble,
Toi qui m'aimais, moi qui t'aimais.
Nous vivions tous les deux ensemble,
Toi qui m'aimais, moi qui t'aimais.
Mais la vie sépare ceux qui s'aiment,
Tout doucement sans faire de bruit.
Et la mer efface sur le sable,
Les pas des amants désunis.

(It's a song that resembles us.
You who loved me and I loved you
And we lived together,
You who loved me, I who loved you.
But life separates those who love,
Gently, without making a sound,
And the sea erases from the sand-
The footsteps of separated lovers.)

 

    

And this is merely the refrain. The whole song is a sheer delight to read.

 

Oh! je voudrais tant que tu te souviennes,
Des jours heureux où nous étions amis,
En ce temps-là, la vie était plus belle,
Et le soleil plus brûlant qu'aujourd'hui.
Les feuilles mortes se ramassent à la pelle,
Tu vois, je n'ai pas oublié.
Les feuilles mortes se ramassent à la pelle,
Les souvenirs et les regrets aussi.
Et le vent du Nord les emporte,
Dans la nuit froide de l'oubli.
Tu vois, je n'ai pas oublié
La chanson que tu me chantais...

(Oh! I really hope you remember
Those happy days when we were friends.
In those times life was more beautiful
And the sun brighter than today's.
The dead leaves gather on the rake.
You see, I have not forgotten...
The dead leaves gather on the rake,
As do the memories and the regrets,
And the north wind carries them
Into the oblivion of the cold night.
You see, I have not forgetten
The song that you used to sing to me.)

Refrain
C'est une chanson qui nous ressemble,
Toi qui m'aimais, moi qui t'aimais.
Nous vivions tous les deux ensemble,
Toi qui m'aimais, moi qui t'aimais.
Mais la vie sépare ceux qui s'aiment,
Tout doucement sans faire de bruit.
Et la mer efface sur le sable,
Les pas des amants désunis.

(It's a song that resembles us.
You, you loved me and I loved you
And we lived together,
You who loved me, I who loved you.
But life separates those who love,
Gently, without making a sound,
And the sea erases from the sand-
The footsteps of separated lovers.)

Les feuilles mortes se ramassent à la pelle,
Les souvenirs et les regrets aussi
Mais mon amour silencieux et fidèle
Sourit toujours et remercie la vie.
Je t'aimais tant, tu étais si jolie.
Comment veux-tu que je t'oublie ?
En ce temps-là, la vie était plus belle
Et le soleil plus brûlant qu'aujourd'hui.
Tu étais ma plus douce amie
Mais je n'ai que faire des regrets
Et la chanson que tu chantais,
Toujours, toujours je l'entendrai !

(The dead leaves gather on the rake
As do the memories and the regrets
But my love, quiet and loyal,
Always smiles and is grateful for life.
I loved you so much, you were so beautiful.
How can you expect me to forget you?
In those times, life was more beautiful
And the sun brighter than today's.

You were my kindest friend
But I only created regrets
And the song that you used to sing,
I hear it always, always...)

 

There is a great rendition of the song  by Andrea Brocelli.

 

This tune[melody] has been plagiarized by a Hindi music composer called Sapan Chakrabarty[ an assistant to music director Rahul Dev Burman] for the film “Zameer”[1976] which starred Amitabh Bachchan and Saira Banu. Sahir Ludhianvi  wrote the lyric.

 

“Tum bhi chalo hum bhi chalen

Chalti rahe zindagi

Na zameen manzil na aasmaan

Zindagi hai zindagi…..”

 

Sung by Kishore Kumar, it was quite a hit in the 70’s. Worth hearing!