Me has a very strong connect with the historical/ cultural myths surrounding the place I was born – Madurai. 2000 years ago, this city was the epicenter of all that Tamil Nadu was famous for – huge temples, amazing literature, brave warriors.
When I was going through this book called “The Circle of Six Seasons”, I was reading some of the poetry of these ancient men/ women and the sheer intensity of the imagery blew me away! Within the tight conventions of Sangam poetry, (which dictated not only grammar but also the kind of flower, the type of feeling, the terrain, the season etc which have to be used in conjunction with each other) these guys have woven some poetic magic!
Have posted two examples below – a pity I don’t exactly understand old Tamil to read the originals.
#1
You long for a journey
across the bleached desert
in the hottest month.
But is this wealth that you go to make
better than seeing the smile
of the first born son
of the woman who lives to love you,
O Lord of the land of tall mountains?
- Ainkurunuru 309
Liked this one because it asks the same questions that I have (or rather every generation since then has) been asking – Is it worth it? This pursuit of mammon at the cost of things far more precious? Also liked the phrase “the woman who lives to love you” – although not my kind of a woman, really liked the phrase. Weird? Am.
#2
They say his path
through the harsh desert
is full of hills
where the swift winds
blow hot & strong
through the branches
of the sirissa tree
rattling its dry nuts
in their rotten pods.
He must hate that space between my breasts.
- Kuruntokai 29
Liked this one for the amazing contrast - between the utterly harsh terrain and the softness/peace of the space between her breasts!
And also like it because I don’t understand it fully – just can’t resist a sense of mystery, I guess. After a journey of a hundred harsh miles, returning home to a woman and “the space between her breasts” must be the most serene of feelings for a man. However the lady feels otherwise?! She seems to think that her man prefers to battle the elements and is very much at home amidst the dry desert and the swirling winds – therefore he must hate coming to her and to her very intimate space.
That’s the way I read it – maybe am wrong – when Freud didn’t understand what women want, who am I? ;-)
Greek idyll
5 months ago
3 comments:
have you heard of the FRAUDIAN Slip? :-P
These poems were so beautiful. I would love to read more translations of similar poetry here.
@Joker - Dont we all make them? ;-)
@silverine- bangalorean woman with sense of humour asks who am i to refuse? ;-) Will check out some more and will let you know after posting.
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