Hindi, asked by cake20, 11 months ago

lakdi ki aatmkatha in hindi for class 8​

Answers

Answered by Priatouri
3

लकड़ी की आत्मकथा

Explanation:

मैं एक आम के पेड़ कि लकड़ी हूँ| मुझे एक लकड़हारे ने आम के पेड़ से तोड़ कर अलग कर दिया| जब उसने मुझे तोड़ने के लिए पेड़ पर प्रहार किये तो मुझे बहुत दुःख हुआ और जब मैं पेड़ से टूट कर अलग हुई तो पेड़ को भी बहुत दुःख हुआ| उस  लकड़हारे ने मुझे शायद बेचने के लिए तोड़ा था इसलिए जब घर जाते हुए रास्ते में उसे एक खरीददार  मिल गया तो उसने मुझे तुरंत ही बेच दिया|  

अब मैं एक ऐसे व्यक्ति के साथ थी जो मुझसे अपने साथ इसलिए ले जा रहा था ताकि वो मुझसे फर्नीचर बना सके| जैसे ही उस व्यक्ति ने मुझे बाकी लकड़ियों के साथ रखा उसके कुछ दिनों बाद अचानक से गोदाम में आग लग गई मेरी साथी सभी लकड़ियाँ जल कर ख़ाक हो गई | जब तक मेरे मालिक मुझ पर पानी डाल रहे थे मैं आधी जल चुकी थी और अब मेरे मालिक मुझे अपने हाथो में ले कर रो रहे थे काश मैं न जलती| मुझे अब बहुत घुटन महसूस हो रही है और जैसे अब मेरे प्राण निकल रहे हैं |

ऐसी और आत्मकथा पढ़ने के लिए दिए गए लिंक को खोले:

एक तालाब की आत्मकथा  

https://brainly.in/question/7058636

चॉकलेट की आत्मकथा  

https://brainly.in/question/13163937

Answered by annanya4769
0

Answer:

I lived there for two hundred years,

Around me, my friends hanged pears,

On the branches they had, full of leaves,

Those which wanderers tied into sheaves.

That has always been a painful process,

Having them cut away your hands,

Your legs and make you bald from king.

So to relieve this pain, we used to sing.

“The merry lake, the merry sun,

That rises alone yet sadness shuns.

The snappy wind that brusquely blows,

Tripping our dry leaves, as it flows.

The peacock who is proud of it’s feathers,

Walks amid rows of purple heather.

The sad loiterers who’ve lost their way,

Come under us to comfort their dismay.

The merry sun, the tolerant lake,

Who’s tranquil despite fishes’ affrays.

The stormy clouds that seem so grey,

Yet gift us with some rain to play.”

The song we sang there, had all our heart.

The mountains around added beauty in the cart,

Of the memories we gathered from this heaven,

The beautiful Kashmir, also called on Earth, Eden.

A fine day it was, we were dancing to and fro,

When came to us a man, with a horrendous saw.

We knew what he intended to do,

We stopped him from doing what he couldn’t undo.

We told him to leave, to live and let live,

But he seemed not to care. It was harsh and abrasive.

I saw my friends scream, being cut inhumanely.

When I got separated, my roots cried incessantly.

“Don’t forget me as I leave, as a new trunk emerges.

Say goodbye happily, for I shall never come visit.

No tears I want to see, as that’s now my destiny,

Wave hands virtually, since none of us have any.”

We were put in a truck, a lot we bled.

But seeing my fellows, the intense pain fled.

Away we were taken, to an unknown land,

The place we have not heard of beforehand.

A room we were thrown in, by savage men.

“Soon we’ll get our living when they’ll get sent.”,

The unbearded grumpy man said to his friend.

And then locked the door, and turned on the van.

Alone we were left for thirty days,

In an uncouth room, to fully decay.

Until came a few lads, who picked us up,

And carried us to some factory nearby.

How miserable it was for us to see,

Being transformed into a bed, inhumanely.

But the last touches of that scenty polish,

Gave me the stamina to start afresh.

Its been around 6 months; I’m now a bed,

Lost my identity, lost my self,

The mountains, the crisp winds — all the best things I had!

To all my fellow trees, hence I’ve got a request,

“Luck by you! You are so blessed!

Allow birds to build on you their nests,

Do not throw pears on the wanderers who sit under,

Be kind, so that you are remembered!”

Explanation:

Autography of wood in English in a form of poem.

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