The name of Kavikokila Duvvoori Ramireddy strikes a chord in the old generation recalling his translation of Omar Khayyam’s Rubaiyat as “Panasala”. Besides being prolific in Arabic, Sanskrit, Telugu and English, he had published 4 volumes of poetry and a number of articles on folklore.
In his book “Krishivaludu” (The Cultivator), Sri Reddy describes the village life so picturesquely, that it would be nostalgic to the old and a colourful dream to the young. The present day disappointing village scenario amply proves that the truth ‘that there is no future for this country without the farmer’, did not yet dawn on our rulers. It is unfortunate that the Cultivator continues to be cheated on Seed, Pesticide, and Fertilizer and the perpetrators continue to escape scot-free.
Here is a sample of poems for your perusal.
1)
Tinkling of the ankle bells of graceful country women on their way
To fetch drinking water from the pond, as sun’s beaming rays course thro’
The lush leafy labyrinths creeping up to the mounts of cots
At daybreak, sound sweet like the bubbly babbling of a darling babes.
2)
Dangling along the roof curbs for a while sun’s radiant beams,
Only which can dispel dense darkness, gold-coat your cozy cot,
Come! Wake up! Shed your sleep. It’s time to herd cattle to heath.
They graze heartily, feast on fodder and the dew-clad blades of grass.
3)
As the pearls of sweat ski down her cheeks
Collect behind that smooth veil of hers,
and fight (as the veil flirts impishly with mammilla)
And as Bangles jingle with each churn-of-curd
Can’t you listen to the sweet lays of your lady?
4)
Is it mean to attend to one’s own work? Can’t you watch
Your woman running around exhaust, attend menial chores they all?
Take that yoke and fetch lake water without demur, please her.
Believe me, such simple courtesies shall never ever go a waste.
5)
Don’t be a lazy laggard, or, while away your time with
Lackadaisical youth paying deaf ear to all wise says;
If farmers, who turn barren lands to green pastures with their sweat,
Turn idlers, who can save the people, feed them with fine food?
6)
As the sweet nascent fragrance of the newly blossomed chrysanthemum wafts around
As wild flowers on the meadow blow up as if a jewelled carpet was laid in welcome
As the fields of rice that bow humbly with full crop seem a home for the Goddess Lakshmi
As the clouds of mist rolling in the sheen of dawn waft like a veil of cloth dashed in gold.
So elegant looks, at the moment, the whole world
That it seems an oil on canvas, rendered
With his magical touch by the Heavenly hand,
Come, just have a peep, eastward.
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Duvvoori Rami Reddy
.
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