Monday, May 4, 2009

My favourite poems and poets-III

My favourite poems and poets-III
Print

Wed, 08 Aug, 2007 , 05:29 PM
.
I fully endorse the view of Somerset Maugham (1874 � 1965) that the crown of literature is poetry, it is its end and aim. It is the sublimest activity of the human mind. It is the achievement of beauty and delicacy. The writer of prose can only step aside when the poet passes .Therefore, John Keats (1795 � 1821) rightly said � If poetry comes not as naturally as the leaves to a tree, it had better not come at all �. A great poem is a dream made flesh in a two-fold sense : as Work of Art, and as Life, which is a Work of Art .Percy Bysshe Shelly (1792 � 1822) in his famous essay on poetry wrote : �A poet is a nightingale who sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds�.Thus poetry is the music of thought, conveyed to us in the music of language.

As a lover of romantic poetry, I can say that the spectrum of love focusses all the arts of living. Warm friendship, intense awareness , ecstatic happiness, all of the arts of the good life, are brilliant beads strung on the golden chord of life. Love is the foundation and the apex of the sacred pyramid of our earthly existence. Love is the �affirmative of affirmatives�; it enlarges the vision, expands the heart. Love penetrates the mysteries of life. Anything will give up its secrets if you love it enough. It is tenderness and compassion; forgiveness and tolerance. Love is the supreme good; it is the overflowing life, the giving and surrender of ourselves to noble ends and lofty causes. It is the valley of humility and the Everest of Himalayan ecstasy. I can go on joyously this way, endlessly forever and ever. Yet at the same time, finally we can never ignore what Shakespeare (1554 - 1616) said in conclusion: �Love reasons without reason�.

These emotions and feelings surged up in my mind and heart again when I re-read the following poem of Allgernon Charles Swinburne (1837- 1909) called 'A MATCH'

If love were what the rose is,

And I were like the leaf,

Our lives would grow together

In sad or singing weather,

Blown fields or flowerful closes,

Green pleasure or grey grief;

If love were what the rose is,

And I were like the leaf.

If I were what the words are,

And love were like the tune,

With double sound and single

Delight our lips would mingle,

With kisses glad as birds are

That get sweet rain at noon;

If I were what the words are,

And love were like the tune.

If you were life, my darling,

And I your love were death,

We'd shine and snow together

Ere March made sweet the weather

With daffodil and starling

And hours of fruitful breath;

If you were life, my darling,

And I your love were death.

If you were thrall to sorrow,

And I were page to joy,

We'd play for lives and seasons

With loving looks and treasons

And tears of night and morrow

And laughs of maid and boy;

If you were thrall to sorrow,

And I were page to joy.

If you were April's lady,

And I were lord in May,

We'd throw with leaves for hours

And draw for days with flowers,

Till day like night were shady

And night were bright like day;

If you were April's lady,

And I were lord in May.

If you were queen of pleasure,

And I were king of pain,

We'd hunt down love together

Pluck out his flying-feather,

And teach his feet a measure,

And find his mouth a rein;

If you were queen of pleasure,

And I were king of pain

Swinburne was born in London in 1837.He studied in Eton college and later in Balliol College, Oxford. Like Oscar Wilde, he had the rare distinction of being rusticated from the Oxford University in 1859. He was closely associated with the Pre-Raphaelite movement, and counted among his best friends Dante Gabriel Rossetti (1828 - 1882).Most of his early and still admired poems evoke the Victorian fascination with the Middle Ages, and some of them are explicitly medieval in style, tone and construction, including 'The Leper,' 'Laus Veneris,' and 'St Dorothy'.

Swinburne was an alcoholic and a highly excitable character. His mastery of vocabulary, rhyme and meter can easily be seen in the above poem 'The Match'. He is the virtual star of the third volume of George Saintsbury's famous History of English Prosody, and A. E. Housman (1859 - 1936), a more measured and even somewhat hostile literary critic, devoted paragraphs of praise to Swinburne's rhyming ability. In his time, Swinburne's poems were very popular among undergraduates at Oxford and Cambridge Universities, though today they have largely gone out of fashion.

T S Eliot (1888 - 1965), commenting on Swinburne's essays on the Shakespearean and Johnsonian dramatists in The Contemporaries of Shakespeare and The Age of Shakespeare and Swinburne's books on Shakespeare and Jonson, found that as a poet writing notes on poets, Swinburne had mastered his material and was 'a more reliable guide to them than Hazlitt, Coleridge, or Lamb,'. Only a man of genius could dwell so exclusively and consistently among words as swinburne.

Even as I was enjoying the romantic poem of Swinburne, I immediately recalled the following beautiful lines of Mahakavi Subrahamania Bharati (1882 � 1921) from his famous Tamil poem �Kanamma�En Kadhali�. We can see the exact parallel between the thoughts, feelings and emotions in English of Swinburne on the one hand and that of Mahakavi Bharati in Tamil on the other. When Swinburne died in 1907, Mahakavi Bharati was just 25 years old and working as Editor, India (Tamil) and Bala Bharatha (English). He had already become famous as a nationalistic poet, thanks to the initiative of that great patriot V Krishnaswamy Iyer, who was the first person who discovered the poetic genius of Mahakavi Bharati by publishing his poems under the title �Desiya Geethangal� in 1906.

What is most fascinating to note is the fact that the above poem was translated into English by Mahakavi Bharati himself and this English version was published for the first time in Agni and other poems and Translations and Essays in English in 1936. C R Reddy, the eminent educationist and K S Venaktramani wrote a beautiful foreword to this volume. I am presenting below the English poem of Mahakavi Bharati. Bharati gave the title of 'IN EACH OTHER'S ARMS' for this poem.

IN EACH OTHER'S ARMS.

(Note'In the following verses the Supreme Divinity, styled here 'Krishna', is imaged as the beloved woman, and The human soul as the lover ' C Subrahmanya Bharati.)

Thou to me the flowing Light

And I to thee, discerning sight;

Honied blossom thou to me,

Bee enchanted I to thee:

O Heavenly Lamp with shining ray,

O Krishna, Love O nectar-spray

With falt'ring tongue and words that pant

Thy glories, here, 1 strive to chant.

Thou to me the Harp of gold,

And I to thee the finger bold;,

Necklace shining thou to me,

New-set Diamond I to thee:

O mighty queen with splendour rife

O Krishna, Love, O well of life,

Thine eyes do shed their light on all,

Wherev'r I turn, their beams do fall.

Rain that singeth, thou to me.

Peacock dancing, I to thee

Thou to me the juice of grape,

And I to thee the cup agape:

Spotless Beauty, Krishna bright,

Perennial fount of deep delight,

O Love, the face hath grace divine,

For there the deathless Truth doth shine

Silver Moonlight thou to me,

Exulting Ocean I to thee;

Thou, the basic harmony

And I the Song that moveth free:

Dear as eyesight, Krishna mine.

O msssed-up, sweet, immortal Wine,

Unceasing yearns my mind to scan

Thy endless charm, but never can.

Inlaid perfume thou to me,

Petalled blossom I to thee :

Thou to me the inner Thought,

And I to thee the Word it wrought;

O honeyed Hope, O Krishna fair,

O Joy, o'erflowing everywhere,

O Star of love, do teach me, pray,

To sing thy praise in fitting lay.

Deep Attraction thou to me,

Living Magnet I to thee;

Thou to me the Veda pure

And I to thee the Knowledge sure;

Voice vibrant of the world's desire,

O Krishna, Love, all-quickening Fire,

In utter stillness, here, 1 see

Thy face that yieldeth ecstasy.

As Life to Pulse, and Gold to rings,

As star to planet, Soul to things,

So Krishna, Love, art thou to me,

Thou, the Force, I, Victory;�

And all the joys of Heaven and Earth

In thee, O Krishna, have their birth,

Eternal glory, endless Might.

O Heart of Mine, 0 Light, O Light!

Swinburne was born in a rich family and he did not have to worry about his daily living. Mahakavi Bharati led a life of poverty bordering on destitution. And yet Swinburne's approach to love was more physical than spiritual. Bharati's approach was spiritually sublime. It was a cosmic macro approach seen through a magnificent telescope. On the contrary, Swinburne's micro approach to love was made through a microscope. Swinburne often contrasted between life and death, good and evil, pleasure and pain even in his love poems. Bharati in the above poem spoke about ever enlarging vistas of ecstatic love, joy and freedom.

To conclude in the beautiful words of C R Reddy and K S Venkatramani: 'Subrahmanya Bharati's poetical genius is the happy result of a cross fertilisation, the clash and contact between two great cultures. They say the oyster breeds the pearl in a moment of irritation. Subrahmanya Bharati poured forth his patriotic songs in a like moment of conflict, suffering and struggle, when his sensitive and vigorous nature keenly felt the slavery of his country and man's inhumanity to man. His warm emotional temperament and aesthetic nature quickly responded in song to the immense joys of freedom and sunshine, like a lotus bud to the stimulating rays of the dawn.... Bharati is not a summer cloud, but the first expression and descent of the monsoon itself, scattering its pearls of beauty over land and river, over hill and dale.'

(To be continued)

No comments:

Post a Comment