Thursday, June 3, 2010

ayyappa madhavan's poems in english(translated by latha ramakrishnan

Ayyappa Madhavan(Tamil Poet – 1966)

• a tamil poet Ayyappa Madhavan is endowed with a sensitive and vulnerable mind battered and bruised by the harsh realities of life, which keeps languishing and agonizing in verses and seeks shelter in dreams and fantasies, sharing secrets with the butterflies and building castles in the air. But, all the while the poet is acutely wide-awake to the life – socio-political and economic – around him - the disparities, indifferences, prejudices, power-mongering and what not. As a poet it is but natural on his part to seek refuge in his poems and that of his fellow-poets and his poems reflect the world in all its cruelties and unpredictabilities and also in its myriad moods and shades – positive and negative.

• And, he uses the language in a gripping manner, leaving many things unsaid but at the same time implying them, giving ample scope for the discerning readers to search for and read ‘the lines between lines’ and also the pauses and silences.

• His native place is a village called Naattarasankottai in Tamil Nadu. He had higher education in the faculty of Textiles. Now, he is trying his expertise in directing Documentary and Feature Films.

• So far, 6 poem-collections of Ayyappa Madhavan have been published and they have established his name as a quality poet in the field of Neo-Tamil Poetry. He contributes regularly to all the Literary Magazines of Tamil.

• A poem of Ayyappa Madhavan has been made into a short-film and he has also directed a Documentary Film. Poet Thamizhachi Pandian has made two of his poems into a short-film. A short-story collection of Ayyappa Madhavan is recently released. And, two more poem-collections of him will be published this year.

• A soft-spoken friendly person Poet Ayyappa Madhavan waits for the birth of a new, better world where there are no wars; nor fears; where none poor and no power-mongers. And, the list is endless….

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1) THE WINGS OF NIGHTA poem in Tamil by Ayyappa Madhavan titled
ராவின் இறக்கைகள்
Translated into English by Latha Ramakrishnan
A butterfly
enticed by the glow of lamp
circled the house, going round and round.
It was its firm belief that
the ‘thumbai’ plants and ‘murugai’ tree
rooted in the glow of the wall.
Its single-minded penance, on the wall’s
With time
melting and seeping
with the honey-drunk exhaustion leaving,
It moved over to the
squares of bricks.
In the spring of its fertile imagination
too many plants of different varieties there were;
flowers in fabulous shapes
deliciously sweet drinks…
With the lamp closing its eyes suddenly
darkness pervading everywhere,
It also merging with the thick blackness shrouding.
When the dawn came
the plants of al the flowers upon which it sat
have all turned into terrible vacuum.
Its imprints, turning pale,
remained lifeless; frozen.
Either the ‘wide-awake’ Morn
or the ‘deep in sleep’ Night
had stolen away
that wonderful life; that magnificent dream.

2) The Sandalwood Cremation

A Poem in Tamil by AYYAPPAN MADHAVAN titled
சந்தனத்தில் சிதை

When he was alive he used to travel all over the world
and earned millions
Houses vehicles gold-bars-
even bridegroom for his daughter, he bought
Went on jolly tours.
Gestured ‘no’ to the have-nots
dolls for his little grand-daughter and gave them
to her
The child smiled. And he felt so happy.
As usual when he ran in his exercise machine
one day he slumped all too suddenly
The doctors who examined him said
that his heart had stopped ticking
The house cried and turned swollen
As the hours went past one by one
they had taken him who had turned rotten and bulging,
to the cremation ground
Amidst the sandalwood smell the rich man burnt to the core
They brought the stone
And he who remained, with all of his turning to nought,
inside the ash-pot
was scattered and dissolved
in the waters of Ganges
In Water’s nature he was a dissolved river.

damn it….
A POEM IN TAMIL BY Ayyappa Madhavan
Titled ‘Che’
If only I were to have a tail
I could have been keeping vigil and
barking as a dog…
Leaping on four legs as a stallion
and earning money in the race
I could have made merry the madcap of gambling
and so be’
Or else, being born a goat I could have grazed and grown
and sold as hot meat;
Or else, as an elephant blessing with my trunk
and getting money for the mahout;
Or as a bull, eating off the straw and pulling along the cart;
Or as a monkey performing tricks and gymnastics
and collecting coins.
Having been born a human-being, going insane-
cheating, swindling,
decaying, disintegrating-
Oh damn it _
How I wish to have a tail….


A Poem in Tamil by Ayyappan Madhavan titled
சாந்தரூப கோலம்
Holding one end in a proper grip
I manage to bring the milk-packet.
The White-Liquid
reminding my palms of the pleasant chillness
tried to divert my attention.
With the wicked mind surfacing-
placing it softly upon the wooden plank of the swing
pouring water and swirling it by way of washing
the wickedness of thin water
turning sticky in the hands-
I was about to let slip
the round bowl.
The wooden plank, with its wickedness
jerking away the hand
I managed to hold the packet that was about to fall.
While lifting it and carefully cutting one end with the scissors
and pouring it,
I managed to save those more than three drops
that were about to seep on the sides,
thanks to the wickedness of hands,
and I put them inside the bowl.
But the White Liquid, due to the wickedness of fire,
swelling and overflowing in the next instant,
hurrying with the body turning all tensed up
I blew out the stove.
With all the wickedness ceasing to be
The White Liquid which raged and boiled and overflowed-
In the death of the hot fire-tongues
losing its heat gradually
and going down inside the vessel,
It appeared as the very personification of Peace.


A poem in Tamil by Ayyappa Madhavan titled
கூதிர்கால வாழ்க்கை

In life’s blood-stained canvases
He had painted the sorrows of the past.
Drops of blood scattered on the leaves decayed;
hollow tree, birds with broken wings;
with tears wept and stagnated;
That painting, so pitiable with the chronic pain
of the wintry days;
rarely in a few lines some flowers to be seen;
not fit enough to eat
but with a thin stalk that had gone weak with its longing
for a seedling.
Those ripened in the hues and shades of sorrow
coming apart and languishing
in one half of the Painting
as thick brownish dye
in the blurred stream
along with it
in the land which lay broken apart
with the stir of fish without eyes
beneath the tree that had been uprooted
by the devilish wind-
The ruined personality of the Artist
in red gushing forth.


1 comment:

  1. எழுத்துக்கள் நிச்சயம் தவம்