Friday, August 04, 2006

Aye maalik tere bande hum

aye maalik tere ba.nde ham
aise ho hamaare karam
nekii par chale.n
aur badii se Tale.n
taaki ha.nsate huye nikale dam

jab zulmo.n kaa ho saamanaa
tab tuu hii hame.n thaamanaa
vo buraaI kare.n
ham bhalaaI bhare.n
nahii.n badale kii ho kaamanaa
ba.Dh uThe pyaar kaa har kadam
aur miTe bair kaa ye bharam
nekii par chale.n ...

ye a.ndheraa ghanaa chhaa rahaa
teraa inasaan ghabaraa rahaa
ho rahaa bekhabar
kuchh na aataa nazar
sukh kaa suuraj chhipaa jaa rahaa
hai terii roshanii me.n vo dam
jo amaavas ko kar de puunam
nekii par chale.n ...

ba.Daa kamazor hai aadamii
abhii laakho.n hai.n isame.n kamii.n
par tuu jo kha.Daa
hai dayaaluu ba.Daa
terii kRipaa se dharatii thamii
diyaa tuune jo hamako janam
tuu hii jhelegaa ham sabake Gam
nekii par chale.n ...

Suggested read : Bharat Vyas

Suggested rythm: Do aanhein bara haath - Vasant Desai

Thursday, August 03, 2006

She thinks I still care

She thinks I still care
Just because I ask a friend about her
Just because I spoke her name somewhere
Just because I rang her number by mistake today
She thinks I still care

Just because I haunt the same old places
Where the mem'ry of her lingers ev'rywhere
Just because I'm not the happy guy I used to be
She thinks I still care

But if she's happy thinkin' I still need her
Then let that silly notion bring her cheer
But how could she ever be so foolish
Oh where would she get such an idea

Just because I ask a friend about her
And just because I spoke her name somewhere
Just because I saw her then went all to pieces
She thinks I still care
She thinks I still care

Suggested read : Dickey Lee

Suggested rythm: She Thinks I Still Care - George Jones

Wednesday, August 02, 2006

Gentleman Alone

The young maricones and the horny muchachas,
The big fat widows delirious from insomnia,
The young wives thirty hours' pregnant,
And the hoarse tomcats that cross my garden at night,
Like a collar of palpitating sexual oysters
Surround my solitary home,
Enemies of my soul,
Conspirators in pajamas
Who exchange deep kisses for passwords.
Radiant summer brings out the lovers
In melancholy regiments,
Fat and thin and happy and sad couples;
Under the elegant coconut palms, near the ocean and moon,
There is a continual life of pants and panties,
A hum from the fondling of silk stockings,
And women's breasts that glisten like eyes.
The salary man, after a while,
After the week's tedium, and the novels read in bed at night,
Has decisively fucked his neighbor,
And now takes her to the miserable movies,
Where the heroes are horses or passionate princes,
And he caresses her legs covered with sweet down
With his ardent and sweaty palms that smell like cigarettes.
The night of the hunter and the night of the husband
Come together like bed sheets and bury me,
And the hours after lunch, when the students and priests are masturbating,
And the animals mount each other openly,
And the bees smell of blood, and the flies buzz cholerically,
And cousins play strange games with cousins,
And doctors glower at the husband of the young patient,
And the early morning in which the professor, without a thought,
Pays his conjugal debt and eats breakfast,
And to top it all off, the adulterers, who love each other truly
On beds big and tall as ships:
So, eternally,
This twisted and breathing forest crushes me
With gigantic flowers like mouth and teeth
And black roots like fingernails and shoes.

Suggested read : Neruda,Pablo (Translated by Mike Topp)

Suggested rythm: Californication - RHCP

Tuesday, August 01, 2006


And it was at that age ... Poetry arrived
in search of me. I don't know, I don't know where
it came from, from winter or a river.
I don't know how or when,
no they were not voices, they were not
words, nor silence,
but from a street I was summoned,
from the branches of night,
abruptly from the others,
among violent fires
or returning alone,
there I was without a face
and it touched me.

I did not know what to say, my mouth
had no way
with names,
my eyes were blind,
and something started in my soul,
fever or forgotten wings,
and I made my own way,
that fire,
and I wrote the first faint line,
faint, without substance, pure
pure wisdom
of someone who knows nothing,
and suddenly I saw
the heavens
and open,
palpitating plantations,
shadow perforated,
with arrows, fire and flowers,
the winding night, the universe.

And I, infinitesimal being,
drunk with the great starry void,
likeness, image of mystery,
felt myself a pure part
of the abyss,
I wheeled with the stars,
my heart broke loose on the wind.

Suggested read : Neruda,Pablo

Suggested rythm: Swara Kakali - Ravi Shankar & Yehudi Menuhin