అనువాదలహరి

A Smile On Migration— Y. Mukunda Rama Rao

.

http://t2.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcSxp3o4zWnFZQzeNxKUt8MovD8ZRWWrThIBrozQVuPfilmjfJPaPg
Image courtesy: http://t2.gstatic.com

When my own  bustling beaut blossom

Bids me good-bye

It seems as though  the dove

That huddled close to my heart this long

Has Taken wing

Throwing a misty screen fore eyes

Knowing fully well

like a Siberian bird on migration.

That she has packed up all festivities and frolic with her

So soon, makes us  think we don’t exist amidst people.

It is not until one comes tete-a-tete with it

No pang or pain would ever be understood!

Those capering leaps

Childhood sand dunes and

Captivating mischief, adorning the house still,

Reminds everybody of her.

There are no wakes of her taking off

Except the agony of not finding her here.

Even you and I won’t leave out

All plants that shoot up … at one place

Nor leave all fruits to the branches that bore them.

The paroxysm of partition

Does not touch the hands that part.

Else, notice the hand

Not sure if it be a sure hand or not

Like the pride of the victorious over the vanquished

Holding her hand, he sports a glittering smile

Exactly like me… some time during the past.

.

Telugu Original:

వలస పోయిన మంద హాసం

Yellapu Mukunda Rama Rao

Y. Mukunda Rama Rao    Image Courtesy: Museindia.com

%d bloggers like this: