Show the poem written by tagore
Answers
Answered by
0
bIrpuruSh
the valiant
by rabindranath tagore
khokA = darling boy; dAdA = elder brother;
lAThi = sturdy staff; beherA = palanquin porter
Joradighi = place name; (joRA=twin, dighi=lake)
bIrpuruSh = valiant one; (bIr = brave; puruSh = man)
(note: pronounce A = aa)
just imagine mother, that you and i
are travelling far (can't remember why)
your palanquin's rocking to and fro
with four beherAs going heiyA-ho
besides them i am trotting along
on my little red pony, singing a song.
my hoof-dust clouds the end of day
thorn-bushes bleak in the low sun's ray
it's barren, barren, every which way
even the animals have gone away
imagine it's dark: you can barely see
we've come to the wilds of jorAdighi
we are cutting through the fields of bramble
it's nearly night, the beherAs scramble
the path curves out a little ahead,
we are going over a dead river bed
in the plodding silence, you suddenly shout
"are those lights out there, moving about?"
just then the cry: "hAre re re re re"
you can hear them charging; utter disarray
beherAs running helter skelter
you pray to heaven for divine shelter
but i tell you calmly, "mA don't worry!
i am here with you, now _they'll be sorry!"
skins gleaming in the flickering light
twirling lAThis they come, a fearsome sight
i yell, "wait!", and "stop right there!
beware my sword now, don't you dare!
just one more step and your blood will spray!"
but they just explode with a "hA re re re re re"
you tell me, all trembling, "khokA, don't go!"
i say, "mA, just watch." and with a "heigh ho",
i spur my horse into the villainous mass
their shields ring out on my cutlass
such a terrible battle, you'd swoon if i say
so many heads cut off, so many run away...
at the end you're weeping, "my khokA is dead!"
just then i'm back, all sweaty blood-red.
i call out, "mA, it's over, the fight!"
you come out then and hug me tight
you lift me to your lap with a kiss: "khokA dear,
what _would i have done, if you hadn't been here!"
such useless things happen all the time
why can't _this be true at least one time?
oh then it would be a real fairy tale
everyone would rave, though dAdA would rail:
"pah! how can this be? he isn't even that strong!"
but neighbours would say, "lucky khokA went along!"
[ feedback? ]
transl. amit mukerjee
kanpur, 26 november 2007
(thanks, molly a.k.a.
dipika mukherjee for your inputs!)
the valiant
by rabindranath tagore
khokA = darling boy; dAdA = elder brother;
lAThi = sturdy staff; beherA = palanquin porter
Joradighi = place name; (joRA=twin, dighi=lake)
bIrpuruSh = valiant one; (bIr = brave; puruSh = man)
(note: pronounce A = aa)
just imagine mother, that you and i
are travelling far (can't remember why)
your palanquin's rocking to and fro
with four beherAs going heiyA-ho
besides them i am trotting along
on my little red pony, singing a song.
my hoof-dust clouds the end of day
thorn-bushes bleak in the low sun's ray
it's barren, barren, every which way
even the animals have gone away
imagine it's dark: you can barely see
we've come to the wilds of jorAdighi
we are cutting through the fields of bramble
it's nearly night, the beherAs scramble
the path curves out a little ahead,
we are going over a dead river bed
in the plodding silence, you suddenly shout
"are those lights out there, moving about?"
just then the cry: "hAre re re re re"
you can hear them charging; utter disarray
beherAs running helter skelter
you pray to heaven for divine shelter
but i tell you calmly, "mA don't worry!
i am here with you, now _they'll be sorry!"
skins gleaming in the flickering light
twirling lAThis they come, a fearsome sight
i yell, "wait!", and "stop right there!
beware my sword now, don't you dare!
just one more step and your blood will spray!"
but they just explode with a "hA re re re re re"
you tell me, all trembling, "khokA, don't go!"
i say, "mA, just watch." and with a "heigh ho",
i spur my horse into the villainous mass
their shields ring out on my cutlass
such a terrible battle, you'd swoon if i say
so many heads cut off, so many run away...
at the end you're weeping, "my khokA is dead!"
just then i'm back, all sweaty blood-red.
i call out, "mA, it's over, the fight!"
you come out then and hug me tight
you lift me to your lap with a kiss: "khokA dear,
what _would i have done, if you hadn't been here!"
such useless things happen all the time
why can't _this be true at least one time?
oh then it would be a real fairy tale
everyone would rave, though dAdA would rail:
"pah! how can this be? he isn't even that strong!"
but neighbours would say, "lucky khokA went along!"
[ feedback? ]
transl. amit mukerjee
kanpur, 26 november 2007
(thanks, molly a.k.a.
dipika mukherjee for your inputs!)
Similar questions
Biology,
6 months ago
English,
6 months ago
Computer Science,
6 months ago
Biology,
1 year ago
Science,
1 year ago
Social Sciences,
1 year ago
English,
1 year ago