TWO POEMS
By UMASHANKAR JOSHI
(Translated
by the author from the original poems in Gujerati)
Below
the piled up clouds,
And
across the mad frenzy of the world,
Seated
above, lofty in repose,
A
Yogi,
Brother
of
The
salutation of one
Nursed
on Himalayan bounties,
Now a pilgrim of the sky.
The
Parsis, worshippers of the Sacred Fire,
Left
Iran for religion’s sake.
They
crossed the sea, and landed
On the Gujerat coast at Sanjan.
The
wise king of Sanjan
Was
approached by a messenger:
‘We
are foreigners. Give us asylum.
Be
kindly to men of religion.’
The
king in silence thought.
There
was not an inch of land to spare.
He
asked for a glass full of milk:
‘Messenger,
take this to your holy priest.’
He
carried the glass to the holy priest,
The
priest looked at it, and in silence thought.
Then
he asked for sugar, and added to the milk
Spoonful after spoonful.
He
sent the messenger back,
To return the milk-glass to the king.
Lo,
the king tastes a drop, dripping from a straw.
Oh,
it has sweetness added to it.
‘Go,
messenger, tell the holy priest,
You
can accommodate yourself with ease.
As
sugar found place for itself in the milk-glass,
Mix
as brethren with the populace here.’