Kanneerin Chamuththiram / Ocean of Tears

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ENGAL  THAAI  NAADDIL  IRUNTHU  VALLIKIRATHU

ORU   KANNEERCH  CHAMUTHTHIRAM

 

UDAINTHU  POHNA  ULLANKALLAI  SUGAP  PADUTHTHA

KANAVUKAL  ETHUVUM  UTHAVAP  POHVATHILLAI

 

ORU  THESAM  PILLAVUNDATHU,  OHR  IRAVIL

NAANGAL  ELLORUM  ANAHTHAIGALAHNOHM

 

NAANGAL  MARAKKAPPADDA  ORU  ULAGAM

OHRAM  KADDAP  PADDU  THANITHTHU  ULDAPPADDAVARKAL

 

KOODDILLULLA  VILANGU  KAADCHI  VILANGUGALPOHL

NAANGAL  ALAVUKKU  ATHIGAMAAGAVE  ILANTHUVIDDOHM

 

NAANGAL EPPOTHUM  SUTHANTHIRAMAHGA IRUNTHATHILLAI

ENGAL  NEENDA  NINAIVUGALIL

 

ANGAE  SILA  VETRU  KUDISAIKAL

PULLUTHIYIL  ENJI  YULLANA

 

ORU  NAAL VARUM

NAANGAL  MEENDUM  ELLUVOEM

 

ATHUVARAI

NAANGAL  NAADKALAI  KADATHTHI  CHELUOEM.

 

 

*

 

OCEAN  OF  TEARS

 

 

THERE  IS  AN  OCEAN  OF  TEARS

FLOWING  FROM  OUR  HOMELAND.

 

THERE  ARE  BROKEN  HEARTS,

NO  DREAMS  CAN  HEAL  THEM.

 

A  NATION  TORN  APART

(  WE  WERE  ORPHANED  THAT  NIGHT…  )

 

WE  ARE  A  WORLD  FORGOTTEN,

PUSHED  ASIDE  –  ALONE.

 

LIKE  ZOO  ANIMALS  IN  CAGES,

WE  HAVE  LOST  MUCH

–  NEVER  BEEN  FREE  –

IN  OUR  MEMORY.

 

EMPTY  HUTS  STAND  IN  THE  DUST.

 

THERE  WILL  COME  A  TIME

–  WE  WILL  RISE  AGAIN.

 

UNTIL  THEN,

WE’LL  CARRY  ON !


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Translation  from  Tamil  into  English  by  the  author:

Bavan  Sribalan

*

Editor’s note:

Bavan  Sribalan’s poem is a reflection upon the civil war in Sri Lanka.



Forward Berth

_____

 

 

Where I lay last innocent

In utero on a 36-foot wooden sailboat, Bicentenial 1976

Teak bobbing on water

Asleep in the forward berth

 

Sails furled

Rocking

 

Sun filtering, flickering

Below deck

In utero

 

Last protected

Unburdened by human tragedy

Rocking

 

Asleep in the forward berth

Sun filtering, flickering

Teak bobbing on water

Where I lay last innocent

 

_____

Adam Zemans  (Vancouver, June 2011)


Al Corrector de Texto por James Morris

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Al Corrector de Texto

 

No hables de me sintáxis,

tú, dominador ligüístico de corazón negro.

 

Calla tu voz alta, ronca, de escarnio crítico.

Tú no puedes comprender mi estilo y mi visión.

 

Pon en paréntesis tus objeciones y tus agudos arrebatos,

El conocimiento del idioma que yo poseo va más allá de tu evasión de artificios.

 

Y a propósito,

mi Gramática era una encantadora mujer.

 

_____

 

Traducción al español por Lidia García Garay



To the Proofreader by James Morris

_____

To the Proofreader

Speak not about my syntax,
you black-hearted linguistic dominatrix.

Silence your high, hoarse voice of critical derision.
You can’t understand my style and vision.

Parenthesize your objections and your punctuated conniptions.
I have knowledge of language beyond your avoidance of contrivance.

And by the way,

My Grammar was a lovely woman.


“Where I’m From” by Luca

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I’m from the artwork that mother makes and buys,

I’m from apple,

pod to phone and touch to tik.

I’m from the cotton fluff dragged around by the dog,

that reminds me of those bottles,

which I keep procrastinating to put outside.

I’m from the pear tree,

the ivy and the ferns which grow on one side.

I’m from the trees and the gardens

(which are all so natural),

also the gates and high hedges,

which people like to keep private.

I’m from No and Na,

Dino, too,

all three are gone,

they’re all on my mother’s side.

I’m from the stories, relived by dad,

and from the brunch,

and the pancakes.

I’m from fun which is only age,

replaced with a smile.

I’m from what God said to his people

(in the Torah, probably),

the most golden rule of all;

 Do Unto Others, As Others Would do Unto Y’all.

I’m from roast turkey and chicken,

a few ribs will do,

from chocolate pecan pie

to whipped cream sundaes,

so much you can barely see the ice cream.

                                     I’m from the little blue photo album,  which is rarely seen.

_____

LUCA, age 10