Dreams are renewable. No matter what our age or condition, there are still untapped possibilities within us and new beauty waiting to be born.

-Dale Turner-

Saturday, 19 June, 2010

In defence of Duryodhana

a translation of one of the many poems that celebrate this shade of the Kaurava prince. for a beautiful tamil original (in english script), go here. the others bear with me:

the disease of suspicion-
is never in my being.
for I am a king who can respect
the friendship that flowers
between a man and a woman.

my friend must have arrived,
looking for me,
my wife must be attending,
with a smiling face.

what could the two be talking,
all this while.
what could they be doing,
all this time.

no such worries,
trouble my heart,
with a pace as steady
as my mind,
I walk back home
to find them both.

entering my palace,
a scene I see,
strange as one,
ever can be.

in my friend's grasp,
is my wife.
a broken chain
is spilling its pearls.

how well the wise spoke:
"all that you see,
is but a lie.
and all that you hear,
is mere falsehood."

but how do I tell them,
of what I have gleaned?

by speaking too much,
I would be a boast.
and by speaking none,
confusion would reign.

All I need are two words,
to put them at ease.

the pearls don't still,
for the king's crown,
the pearls call upon,
laughing on the floor.

to pick them up is quite easy,
it doesn't call for much sense.
to string them is a little harder,
calling for untiring attention.

without merely collecting,
I can string them as well.

tell me, my beautiful wife,
tell me, my dearest friend,
"should I pick them up,
or string them as well?"

"edukkavo, kokkavo?"


My nephew is a slothbear