FIRDAUSI

 

GURRAM JOSHUA

 

[Among the Telugu poets of this century the late Gurrarn Joshua has earned a worthy place for himself. “Firdausi” is considered to be the best of his works. Here are some verses rendered into English by B. Theodore.

–Editor]

 

Blessed is the womb that conceives the poet,

Immortal is the patron that receives his work;

But the so-called eminent people on earth

Consider the poet as a worthless person.                                   1-12

 

The deftness that lies in the Creator’s hand

Lies in the quill of the poet too;

He alone can exercise power divine;

Really he’s worthy reverence by all.                                          1-13

 

The clustering of words, and the rhythm of the poem

That matches the movement of horses’ hooves.

The richness of thought and the natural flow

Moved the hearts of the poets in the court.                                1-42

 

O Sultan Mahmud! the spurious lightnings

I trusted and a castle of Hope I built,

Which now has become a firmament void,

Usurping my all, collapsed in hell;

In vain I stand in a world of grief.                                              1-47

 

The sin of offering my poetic nectar

To the Sultans that possess stony hearts

Who offer humans as a prey to their swords

Verily has smitten me; how can I get

The money already has gone destroyed

By the fire of wilful sin of mine?                                                 1-48

 

Ink in my quill has remained to write

Mournful ditties dull and insipid;

Hapless I am, my strength declined,

The demon of Age has enveloped my body;

These tears of despair have become the fruit

Of my literary service of thirty years.                                         1-49

 

Each of the couplets a drop of blood

Consumed from me; in vain I have written;

Will the noblest king thus utter lies?

Will he not pay my gold he owes?

Alas! this fact I knew not before,

O Sultan of Ghazni! Mahmud the Great!                                    1-50

 

After promising by Allah, O knave! you tried

To pay me in silver for my poesy of gold:

Will Allah be pleased with your worship, O king?

He that breaks not his promise, O Sultan!

He alone is human and blest on earth.                                        1–51 

 

As a tiger my poesy has devoured my strength;

My skeleton half-dead has remained shaky;

Can the goddess of Mahmud’s sword relish

Flesh of the old man living but dead?

Can the shame incurred be wiped out by that?                           1-62

 

In the sea for pearls many a time

I dived but alas! unlucky I was;

Obtain I could not a single pearl

But the sea did gape to swallow me.                                          1-63

 

The tops of eastern hills were suffused

With saffron; the Sun, his crimson rays

Did spread; the Moon in the sky, crestfallen,

Clambered the plains of the western hills

Along with the man and headlong fell;

And the darkness changed into crows and cawed.                     2-9

 

Tickling the garlands of flirting waves

Of this river that flows with untiring roar,

And nodding your head for the charming dance

Of the rows of foam, and laughing merrily,

Why not you look at me when I bow?                                       2-12

 

At dawn and dusk on the objects of Nature

Your hallowed and lovely hand inscribes

Something and passes, which sometimes I find.

But comprehend I can’t, I’m slow to grasp;

Why have you thus created me, God!                                        2-17

 

By your grace does this Universe merrily sing

And knows not a little either good or bad;

Where have you learned this long-suffering. My Lord!

If anger you have, can the Sun in his course

In the firmament abide, or the day ever dawn?                           2-19

 

On the lovely couches of the clouds on the peak

Of the western hill the Moon like an infant

Does sleep, and building cradles for him

In the water of this lake and singing lullabies

Why don’t you look towards me, O God!

 

Why in the welkin have you bent your rainbow?

The Sun has hidden behind the clouds;

What treason has he done and brought this trouble?

Can the worlds withstand if you were enraged?                         2-31

 

For sport you twirled the earth as a top

Some ages ago with all your might;

If the speed of rotation would slow down a little,

Will the course of life on earth survive?

Which side will it tilt? What’ll be the consequence?

I surmise like this sometimes as a madman.                                2-32

 

Destructive sin that men have hoarded

Makes this earth abhor and groan;

But the wrath of God does fear to kindle

Perhaps because of men like you.                                              3-26

 

O Ingrate! sink in the sea of shame!

You’ve lost for ever the bliss of heaven

With Firdausi, the most distinguished poet

Who with his rapturous and luscious poesy

Delighted the whole of the Afghan nation;

Now roam as a living corse for ever.                                         4-33

 

Poets there are hundreds of epics beautiful,

And scholars profound that display their scholarship;

But can there be sweetness as in Firdausi’s poesy?

Will there be a fool that spurns a diamond?                                4-35

 

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