[India] Hemanta Pramanik诗四首 翻译:

2020-12-15  本文已影响0人  静铃音

[India] Hemanta Pramanik

Old****Age(and other three poems)

Old age resembles a yellow leaf

among the green, tender leaves

yet to fall on the ground.

Old age like a dying plant

withering in the sun and air

among its saplings around.

Old age like boiled tea leaves

fully extracted for its essence

in the liquor quality bound.

Old age like that bad company

which, society thinks, may rot

a child to indulgence unbound.

Old age signifies helpless time

when life-clock chimes

with its cheerless sound.

Essence of Life

My mind aches for essence

of life that purifies the soul,

my arid heart with its presence

be rejuvenated to its goal.

Like the wind, once Love blew

over me with trembles mild

leaving no thrill that flew

into my veins growing wild.

Then it drizzled as the rain

on the dry land of heart,

no union to aesthetic gain

but really proved a flirt.

As the Northwester when it came

transiently engraving own name

in the niche of my heart,

danced with me in concert,

being blessed in that hour,

as a tree I drenched in shower

of love with unkempt hair,

union of two souls truly rare.

After the rains of ‘Amor’,

though it estranged for

leaving me alone far away,

Yet I crave for April-May.

Universal

A mother is mother

Her name no other,

And the mother’s lap

Sun can’t warm up,

The pleasant place on earth

First right after one’s birth.

Mother fondling her child

To faults being blind,

She cares all times,

Teaches many rhymes

Showering peerless love

Upon nestlings as mother-dove.

She dreams infinite

Every mother’s right,

Her daughter or son

Would be an icon

Whose works when valued,

Whom world would salute.

Not easy as does it seem

Fulfilling mother’s dream,

To make something new

Not able all but a few,

Child’s success circumstantial

But mother’s wishings universal.

Immortality

they are still living...

the power cells of civilisation,

poverty their only identity,

slavery the world’s tradition.

the rich for own survival

among the living norms

enslaves the poor alike

the sparrows do the glow-worms.

our universe may cease

its time-bound expansion,

yet enjoys the needy

their timeless discrimination.

the poor ever alive...

their life-poverty continuum,

out of immortality embodies

the concept of equilibrium.

About the author:

Hemanta Pramanik, a bilingual poet and short story writer (English and Bengali). Born on 20 Nov, 1971. Residing in Berhampore town of West Bengal in India. An M.A. in English literature. Profession teaching. Widely published in many reputed magazines and journals like ‘Sahitya Deshkaal’(The Mirror of Time) from W.B., ‘Poets International’ from Bengaluru, ‘Poetcrit’ from Himachal Pradesh and ‘Metverse Muse’ from Vishakhapatnam. Writes articles. Also featured in many poetry anthologies .

马塔·普拉马尼克[印度]

晚年(外三首)

老年人像黄叶一片

被遮掩在嫩绿的叶子间

摇摇欲坠

老年人像垂死的植物

阳光明媚,空气清新,周围树苗葱郁

唯有它日渐枯萎

老年人像煮过的茶叶

它的精髓已被摄取殆尽

而浸泡它的水则质素饱满

老年人就像一个坏伙伴

被社会嫌弃:他可能会腐化

孩子,使其放纵不羁

老年人令时光无助

生命的钟声回荡着

凄凉的音

生命的精髓

我的情志渴望生命的

精髓净化灵魂

只有当它降临,我干枯的心

才会重获活力,不忘使命

曾经,爱像风一样

吹拂我,令我轻轻颤抖

却并没有留下悸动飞突

在我的血管,令它们喷张

然后,它像毛毛雨

浸润我干枯的心之土壤

可两者没有结合出美的收获

仅仅被证明是一次调情

西北风暴吹来

瞬间在我心灵的密地

刻上它的名字

与我共舞

在那一刻,我被福祈包围

我像一棵树,被爱之大雨

淋透,那爱疯狂如乱发

两个灵魂的结合是罕见的

在“埃莫”之雨后

虽然它走上了陌路

虽然它把我独自留在远方

但我渴望四月和五月

普天之下

母亲就是母亲

她的名字无人可以替代

母亲的腿

比太阳温暖

那是一个人出生后知道的

地球上第一个令人愉悦的地方

母亲溺爱孩子

看不到孩子的错误

她时时刻刻都在关爱孩子

教孩子唱歌

母亲的爱无以复加

像鸽子妈妈一样将孩子护于羽翼之下

母亲的梦想无限广大

那是每一位母亲的权利,

她的女儿或儿子

会成为偶像

其成就被敬仰

全世界都将向其致敬

母亲的梦想并不像

看起来那样容易实现

能够有所创新

只是少数人而不是所有人

孩子的成功是受偶然因素影响的

但却是普天下母亲的愿望

不朽

他们还活着……

他们是文明的蓄电池

贫穷是他们唯一的身份

奴隶制是世界的传统

富人只图自己的生存

在生存法则中

他们奴役穷人

就像麻雀捕食萤火虫

我们的宇宙可能会停止

它有时限的扩张

然而穷人却遭受着

永恒的歧视

只要穷人还活着……

他们就是生命贫穷的连续体

就将不朽地体现

均衡之概念

作者简介:

赫曼塔·普拉马尼克,双语(英语和孟加拉语)诗人和短篇小说作家。1971年11月20日出生。居住在印度西孟加拉邦的柏兰波镇。英语语言文学硕士。教师。在许多著名杂志和期刊上广泛发表作品,如W.B.的《时间之镜》、班加罗尔的《国际诗人》、喜马偕尔邦的《诗歌》和维萨卡帕特南的《Metverse Muse》。他还撰写评论文章,并且诗作入选多个诗歌选集。

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