The ugly verse
How long should poetry
Stay beautiful alone.
How long must it be
Beauty's only urn.
I so wish today that
I made it ugly too.
In the ugliest of states
Poetry remains the loveliest
Of all.
In the filthiest
Of the violent seas
Poetry bathes and comes out the cleanest
I really so wish today
That I rendered it ugly too.
Come on, dear poets
Let's free poetry
From this tyranny of beauty.
Let's free it, let's free it
From beauty's infinite bondage.
Let's see
How dark the world will look
After its light is put out.
Let's see how empty will the human world's
Emptiness be.
In what way is a nude temple different
From a nude brothel?
How does a parliament smell differently
From the way a crematorium does?
What difference really is there
In the cold-blood of a court
Of law and that of a butcher's?
Just outside their walls stands
In the pristine garb of honesty.
Today I so strongly long to
Turn it into a thing ugly.
Come, my dear poets
Let's declare poetry dead today.
And let's see how much
More alive will it look
Sitting upon its own corpse.
Let's see
How mad
Will the gun go
About the end of imagination
To what distance
Will the tyrant's laughter reach.
And how crestfallen can art be.
Great times are still to come
When beautiful verses shall be written.
For today's sake. I opt to write
The ugliest of poetry
Ever written.
And exactly the way the gun writes
The poetry of violence
On the chest of martyrs
How long. how long should poetry
Stay beautiful and alone. By Bhupeen Vynkul Translated from Nepali by
Manu Manjif
The poet pleads that poetry should be
salvaged from 'tyranny 'of beauty. The poet wants to write ugly verse
exposing the darkness of the world when the light is put off. The poet
exposes stark reality of some of the objects of veneration such as
'temple', 'parliament' and 'Court of Law'. The poet wants to write the
ugliest of poems like 'gun writes the poetry of violence / '. The Nepali
poet ends the poem with striking note that how can poetry alone
beautiful in an ugly world. The poem is marked for its masterly use of
metaphors to depict a world of turbulence and mayham which cannot be
described in beautiful poetry. Indeewara Thilakarathne
Like a blossomed flower
Making the dark night a glow,
It shined,
With it's silvery rays of beams,
Pouring,
Through the trees,
Bordering the grassy meadow,
Where Jack Frost dances,
On wintry nights,
Surrounded by twinkling stars,
Like a blossomed flower,
By a dusty pavement,
The moon beamed down,
Upon the sleeping world. - Gimhani Upeksha
The poem recreates a magnificent moonlit
night with its incomparable glory. It is a celebration of nature. The
sublime beauty of moon seen through the trees almost creates a surreal
effect on the reader. The poem is marked for its brevity and apt use of
metaphors which recreate mind's picture of an extremely beautiful night.
-Indeewara |