MODERN KANNADA POETRY
(A
Few Specimens)
Towards the end of August 1955, a Symposium on
‘Modern South Indian Poetry’ was held at the Indian Institute of Culture,
A
feature of the function was the reading of the poems first in the original
tongue and then, immediately after, in translation. The idea was to let the
listeners hear the lilt and cadence of the poems in the sister languages before
they heard the rendering in a foreign tongue. The experiment evoked interest
and enthusiasm.
The
poems printed below are not by any means the best written by the authors but
are a fair sample of their work in some one or two of their characteristic
moods. The translations are kept near the original texts and have had the
benefit of the authors’ revision. The poems of only two poets–of Sri M. Govind
Pai and Sri. G. P. Rajaratnam–are not included, for they are hard of rendering.
These poems are unique: Pai’s on ‘the Sea’ and G. P. R’s on ‘Teaching the wife
cycling’ and ‘the lady, my wife’.
The
following are the poets presented:
(1) ‘D.V.G.’–Sri D.V.
GUNDAPPA is a well-known writer and Man of Letters whose is easily the most
massive intellect on our literary scene. As poet, dramatist, critic,
biographer, and student and servant of public affairs his place is among the
greatest in our part of
(2) ‘SRINIVASA.’ is the
pen-name of Sri Masti Venkatesa. Iyengar whose is the largest name in modern
Kannada literature. His style in poetry is simple and clear,
and would perhaps have won for him reputation for greater profundity if it was
more difficult and grandiloquent. But his achievement is high in any form of
composition which he has contributed. ‘Kaka’s Song’ is from his Play ‘Kakana
Kote’ and has a quality which one associates with the ‘Song
of Ariel’ in Shakespeare’s ‘Tempest’.
(3) Prof. D. R. BENDRE
is the purest lyrical poet in modern Kannada. His love songs and mystical
pieces are equal to the best in any language. When he uses the folk style of
Northern Karnataka, his poetry is richest and most compelling. The intensity
and moving power of these pieces will speak for themselves.
(4) ‘KUVEMPU’ is the
name by which Dr. K. V. Puttappa–now the Vice-Chancellor of the Mysore
University–writes. His is the most considerable contribution to modern poetry
in our parts. His ‘Ramayana Darsanam’ in the epic mould
won for him the Sahitya Akademi’s award last year, for the best work in Kannada
since Independence. This came as a crowning piece to his earlier work which is
itself big and various by any standard. His earlier lyrics have a naturalness,
colour and charm which made the poet dear even in the earlier phases of his
development.
(5) Principal V. K.
GOKAK (‘VINAYAKA.’) has written some of the most individual poetry of our time.
His ‘Songs of the Sea’ are a real departure from old song. ‘Bala deguladalli’
is a new type of composition where he portrays persons, attitudes and values.
For earnestness and vigour his composition has few peers in contemporary
Kannada.
(6) Sri P. T.
NARASIMHACHAR is one of the sweetest singers in modern Kannada. His Song-Plays
are a new gift to our literature. His piety and devotion link
him with the Vaishnava singers of all over India and more particularly with the
South Indian ones richly laden with the tradition and culture of this ancient
land.
(7) Sri K. S.
NARASIMHASWAMY, who is now about 38 years of age, is the
youngest poet represented here. He has given us many beautiful pictures of
young love and conjugal felicity; but he has substantively changed tune
recently and added a new dimension to his soul. His voice is keen
and courageous and themes new and vital.
Later
generations than feature here are already pushing forward with achievement and
will, presently, be more fully on the scene.
(8) The last poem is
by one who signs himself ‘V. See’ l and comes in the period between Numbers
3 and 4.
The
idea was first to publish all the poems read at the Symposium as a
‘Transaction’ of the ‘Institute of Culture’. But as the scheme could not take
effect, this Kannada section of it is presented here with the Institute’s kind
permission. Triveni has been foster-mother to much positive talent
before now, and for over a quarter of a century been the meeting place of
litterateurs from all over India. Its mission has been the promotion of
friendship and understanding between writers of the neighbouring literatures.
So it is as well that Triveni should present this Symposium. And how
hospitably and graciously it does that!
By
‘D.V.G.’
(D.V. Gundappa)
Wayfarers are we, O
friends,
Leave us alone;
Involve us not in your
town-life’s tangle;
We mean to walk alone.
We have come from
afar, stay the night at the lodge,
And move forward soon
from here.
At the behest of our
Master we move about,
Nowhere should we stay
for more than a day.
We have sought to stay
at the temple lodge
With other wayfarers
there.
We share our songs and
news with them
And spend the night in
company.
We have seen the
weeping folk; and those who are merry
Those who frighten and
those unafraid;
The villainous ones we
have seen and the illuded ones,
And, some wise ones
too.
Enough of your bustle
have we seen;
We are like birds
which seek their nests.
Speed must we forward,
reach our home, and
Set down the burdens
from our heads.
We are not constrained
this way or that
Or afraid that our
path is hard.
The feet of our Master
we cherish at heart,
His words cheer us on
the roads.
Fate’s mockery no whit
frightens us;
We meet it gently when
it comes;
We hold ambrosial
essence in our hearts
To feed us and keep us
strong.
The things we see we
do not covet;
We eat the fruit we
chance to get.
Our joys are ours, as
your cares are yours,
We’ve stayed enough in
your town, O friends.
(Masti
Venkatesa Iyengar)
On the top of the hill,
in the heart of the woods,
There where the Kapini
River springs;
Where the black
pouring clouds gather
Quickly amass as one
looks on;
There, where the
leader-tusker with his herd and calves
Wanders at will under
the moonlit sky;
Where the stag halts
to look lordly on
Like a lion crested
with its spreading antler;
There, where the deer,
sighting the tiger’s eye,
Scatters its timid
band of leaping fellows;
Where the parrot, the
mina, the cuckoo
And the lines of
flying birds,
Keep singing air on
air with rising voice;
Where, on the sudden,
the peacock raises his shrill scream
To strike the high
boulder and resonate;
There where the
honey-bee is content where it stays
Feeding on the one
flower it steals;
Where champak and
jasmine and amaranth
And the lily, her
sister, blooms with them day after day;
Where the jalari emits
the fragrance of its heart
And calls to you to
step into her abode;
There where the
spreading jack bears abundant fruit
Like bracelets for
hands and feet all about;
Where the dark-red
sandal grows rich and tall,
That’s where Great
Madeswara loves to be
That’s where Madeswara
moves about.
By
D. R. BENDRE
Do not look at me so;
If you do what look
could I return to yours!
In the Ocean of
Samsara are countless rocks of sorrow
I know, though I know
not where lies the other shore.
Let the lying child
lie there; the rest is God’s will.
I cannot stop it. Why
look you so again and again?
Where has fled the
colour of your lips, which without chewing pan should shine
Like the lush-red of
the parrot-bitten fruit?
To what rushing wind
do your chin, your cheek, your face, your eye
Look queer, freighted
with mortal menace
Like as Death caressed
them there, bringing me needless fear.
At the wedding Dhara
you held my wet hand; and, likely,
You still fancy it is
cool; and will not let it go.
Even after finding the
fire ash-covered, if the cloud
Were to topple to the
earth
Where else is asylum
for the earth?
Likely you trust the
common saying and believe that I am God!
O woman, with eyes
shining like the fruit of the kavali-briar,
Milk-smeared tho’
washed with the dew,
Say, say, are these
eyes I see before me yours?
They make me tremble
and my life says suddenly,–
“Is this a corpse of
the full moon come floating
In the sky during the
noon-bright day?”
The rain has set foot
in your eyes; off and on why laugh you like mad?
Like the cloud which
stays its rain-drop on the pretext of a wind?
Weep if you will; let
the floods flow; why vide a sorrow with hollow laughter!
Let the lids beat and
shed the burden; but, stare not so,
Nor stay its upsurge
with a tightened lip.
By
D. R. BENDRE
Measure your love thus
and thus?
Why toil measuring it?
Be happy loving and
beloved.
What you have is much;
one’s ray is one’s day;
Other light is
darkness;
Your camp is where you
stay; your field is where you play;
The rest of the world
is back, away.
With a necklace made
of pearls
Is your affection
brightened?
And when you kiss an
eyelid wet
Does the kiss mind the
wet?
Even in the tear that
boils out,
Does the fragrance not
come out?
Pearl and ruby, gold
and all,
Are stone and mud in
luxury.
Foolish man,
They are a show, a
fashion, a flourish,
A boast in life;
The basic truth is
Love.
The seven heavens and
the seven hells are its light and darkness,
Millennia and rebirths
Are fortress and
battlement.
Suppose you mounted a
throne
And sat close each to
each,
Well, what in it is
superior to the beloved’s arms?
You close your hearts
and eyes
And admire you know
not what.
Your hut may be
beneath a tree;
Love can flourish
there;
Joy can overflow.
By ‘KUVEMPU’
(K.
V. Puttappa)
In Fancy’s sky, on the
Rainbow riding with you I sit and float.
With a magic smile, O
lovely one, You look like a cloud of fire.
The height I have
reached I see
And a joy fills my
mind,
A fear dawns that I
may fall
And then it flags.
An unfading smile
plays on your face, always
Like a peacock’s,
happy.
The meaning of your
silence I know not.
Our lotus chariot is
afloat.
Then, when the golden
chariot you brought and called to me,
I was playing in the
dust.
A golden sunlight
played about, and bird-song filled the sky;
With eyes awake was
the world asleep.
I saw the colour of
your chariot
And first was charmed
by it,
And took a ride on it.
Whereto you will take
me, I then didn’t ask;
You make no answer
when I do.
With your finger you
but point to the space beyond.
A vacant sea-blue is
all I see.
In the star-spangled sky
with the moon, the Sun and the planets
Our chariot of art is
flying;
How far forward? To
what shore I know not or when.
Your lotus ride keeps
on.
With suspicion
sometimes atremble is
This bird of my soul.
Your smile is my trust
as my Master’s witness.
Day and Night, morning
and evening, keep rolling on,
Scattering the skies
with colour;
And when I look on
before me at your soundless sign
A vacant sea-blue is
all I see.
By
‘KUVEMPU’
(K.
V. Puttappa)
Why does the water
flow?
It flows!
Not to join the sea?
It joins,
What of that?
The water,–to join the
sea
does not flow;
It flows and joins the
sea.
Nothing more.
Why burns the fire?
It burns;
Not to cook the food?
It cooks!
What of that?
The fire,–to cook the
food
does not burn;
It burns and the food
is cooked.
Nothing more.
Why shines the Sun?
He shines!
Not to light the
earth?
Yes, it does;
What of that?
The Sun,–to light the
earth
Does not shine;
He shines and the
earth
Is lighted up.
Nothing more.
Why was Creation born?
It was born.
Not to work off Karma?
To work off;
What of that?
Creation,–to work off
Karma
Was not born;
It arose and the Karma
Is worked off.
Nothing more.
By ‘VINAYAKA’
(Y.
K. Gokak)
One is not one; it is
a hundred and one;
Who knows this tale
knows the true account.
Only he knows who has
discovered that the One is without limit;
The lamp of his life
illumines.
So rise; count the
stars: In the one sky
Count the myriad
twinkling stars.
Gather all the visions
of this daedal earth
And to its tune make
dance your heart and mind.
The sky swallowed up
the message of all the incarnations:
The earth–their
bodies; our mind–their words.
Earth, sky and mind
are not yet satiate;
Those lives only are happy
which have been lived with the saints.
Let remembrance of
this keep you vigilant,
And that experience
Divine of human kind be your inspiration.
When one’s birth and
kind flower and ripen
Perfection comes
within the span of man’s life.
Put your trust in no
single faith; nor in a single path,
Nor tune to a single
rhythm, howsoever sweet,
Nor shed a tear that
nought is yours.
Such pride but pulls
you to a fall;
Go, clasp the cloud;
let your earnestness be
That the Earth is
touchstone to all the philosophies.
Scatter yourself into
space, nor be cribbed in a corner.
And may the blessings
of the sky and the Earth
Guard you ever, at
your base and crown.
(Selections
from a poem of the
above name in Bala
deguladalli)
By
‘Pu. Ti. Na.’
(P.
T. Narasimhachar)
The Garuda flies above
And below it fleets
its shadow;
An Eagle’s will is the
Eagle’s way
The shadow’s way is
where it moves.
On every field and on
every house
On well and pond as it
likes
On tree and shrub and
hill and dale
It stays awhile as it
moves.
Its fleet foot is like
the wonder wind’s;
What trick can stay
its speed?
You cannot catch nor
can you tie it;
It moves ever nor will
be stayed.
I see this and am
moved to think,
Is not Gandhi a shadow
such as this?
Wheresoever God’s will
likes to move
This warrior moves
always.
Yours is the lamp as
yours are the winds;
May light never be
out.
Yours is the ship as
yours is the sea;
May life never be
sunk.
The hills are yours
and yours are the plains;
May love spread and
smile.
Shine or shower, all
are yours;
May they so remain.
A thunder there and a
cloud here,
Yearn to adore you,
As there a bird or
here a tree
Learns to salute you.
The roll of the drum
and the song on the lute
Are echoes of your
voice;
The giant epic and the
lyric sweet
Are the sound of your
feet.
The Buddha and the
raging war
Are your reputation;
The midnight-hour and
the rising sun
Are your revelation.
Famine and Wealth are
your creatures;
All, in the end, are
one.
Your motherly eye
takes all in love;
All, to you, is one.
O Author of all this
creation, who
Will not be President,
Lord and Ruler of this
spreading world
Present though unseen:
You call to the
people, show them a kingdom
Tell them to rule the land,
The palace-door you
then open, to go-
And never once look
behind!
Your sovereign might
flows like a river
Of total renunciation;
Nor crown of pearls
nor crown of thorns
Mark your departure.
A king such as you is
within yet afar
Ever, alas, elsewhere;
While you are the life
as you are the spirit
Of a kingless
constitution.
Place me not upon your
throne,
Or deck me with your
moon-crown;
Your necklace of stars
will be heavy round my neck,
I shall have none of
your kingship.
Mock me not calling to
me ‘child, my child’,
Nor treat lightly my
strength.
Do not vest in me your
kingship, now
That you have grown
tired of it.
No, do not place me on
your throne;
Let the flame of your
prowess blaze on me.
I shall not be fed
with cowardice of your fondling born;
Be your love hard as
the diamond.
After how long is so
much affection extended?
Your ways I cannot
understand.
An unwanted child
then, am today your joy;
Is selfishness your
ethic?
My mother said this to
me: On a day you seemed to have
Touched her charming
shoulder
And I was born in the
heart of a spreading wonder
Kissing the
earth-flag.
In the desert she
built a cradle of cloud for me,
Fanned me with dew,
with fire, with storm;
Fed me with ambrosia
from her breast.
What gladness was hers
that a son like me was born!
Rain, River and Sea
sang and called to me;
Harvest and life
opened the loveliness of the earth.
My mother held me to
her, and over hills and dales
She danced with joy to
the tune of the cloud-drum’s beat.
She splashed on to my
cheeks the sunlight of many a land
And carried me on her
back over the spaces of the sky;
And in the lion-camps
of the hills and the forests
That daughter of fire
brought me up.
You must have seen me on
those days: I smiled
And beckoned to you
with my little hands?
But what imperial
insolence was yours then,
You moved away not
once touching me!
Mother said: “Little
one, call to him,
Crawl up to him
forward, dear,”
And when, unheeding,
you moved away she was
Distressed; and she
cried, “What a man have we here!”
The stars sang, “One’s
Mother is one’s God”;
The ignorant ones
could but say, “She is Maya”.
You know the taste of
the sweetness of my mother’s love,
I am son to that rich
mother. Hear this now:
“I grew up without
knowing you. I have known
Only a mother’s love,
her loveliness.
She has faith that her
son will grow up apace
To earn for himself
the prowess of his sire.
“Teach me to live with
no obligation to you;
Bless me that my life
may ripen through suffering;
Obstruct me on paths
where I seek not your aid;
Let the roads wax
longer as I tread them.
“Be the father that
torments his son; be his enemy.
So may my breath grow
faint;
Be the rock on which
spills the blood from my body
And see on it your
name.
“Dust is the door by
which I came, the door by which I leave.
A mother’s eye
protects me in between.
All gold is the
granite-fortress of that eye’s prison.
It were well you left
me alone.
“I do not wait for the
day when your kingship
Sans age,
sans death will be ending.
Why come you to me now
in the illusion that
You can ask your
grown-up son to bear the yoke?
(Abheeh)
By
V. See
(Translated
and read by the Chairman, Sri Masti Venkatesa Iyengar)
Riving the silence of
the waters and the wilderness,
Crossing the hurdle of
the horizons’ width,
Drowning all sounds
else and lifting up to view?
The great way to true
life, hear the cry
Reaching all ears and
spreading the message of the Deathless;
Fear not! Fear not!
Fear not! From Eternity’s farther shore
It comes, to tread
victorious the mound of thirty hundred years.
Out of the tabernacles
made for performance of sacrifice
From the mouths of the
victims of sacrifice and the doors of prison-houses
From mills which grind
the helpless and the crosses piercing merciless,
From the cup of deadly
hemlock, and the stake and the fire burning the living
Hear the cry arising!
Fear not! Fear not! Fear not!
Hear this cry arise
and scatter all weakness, all cowardice,
And feed hearts all
motherlike with the life-giving nectar of courage.
It cries: “When, ever,
did the nerveless, the weak of heart earn their soul?
“What, ever, will they
do who wait ever for strength from elsewhere?
“What will they win,
and when,
“Who shiver at thought
of persecution from the resolute tyrant?
“Fear not! Fear not!
Fear not!” This seed from which heaven takes birth
Has found place in
man’s heart, has sprouted and is giving out shoots.
It is
nourishing and strengthening there the core, the marrow of Life.
It allows not men to
stand or sit or to lie down;
It intrudes into their
play and their pleasure and teases.
When in fatigue the
eyelids droop as if they fain would close,
In new ardour, just by
their side, it rises with a higher note.
Fear not! Fear not! Fear
not! “Fear not,” is ever its text
And trumpets this
lesson with high breath into the winds of the eight quarters of the heavens”
Commanding them to
trumpet it, in their turn, loud and long.
Obstacles may arise;
they may be wide as the earth, wide as the aeons;
The imperial master
may roar, the heart within you quiver;
The smaller loyalties
of tribe and faith, of country and companionship
May throw their
confusing shadow across the path you tread.
Fear not! Fear not!
Fear not! “Fear not” is the cry
That in the hour of
darkness and suffering will point the way
And lift the veil that
hides the beckoning face of Truth.
The mind that will not
bend, the resolution to win through,
The steadfast purpose
to walk unswervnig right on to Truth,
Vigilant refusal to
submit to injustice ever
And the heart ever
open in mercy, in loving tenderness,
These are crying
“Forward !” these lead us onward while
Fear not! Fear not!
Fear not! the formula that saves,
Is beating in our
pulses and shaping our lives.
1
This is how our friend, Sri V. Sitaramiah, veils himself –Editor, Triveni.