O American girl,
From Alaska,
Kentucky,
Florida,
Louisiana,
Georgia,
Texas,
Missouri
Or Massachusetts?
American,
O American girl?
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Writing poetry, I fear it, one day I may turn into a poet fossilized
Make a staue of his,They saying it,Of the poet unknown.
I can see three villagerly friends,
Mr.Ganjeri puffs in ganjaFrom an earthen takerAnd the eyes drugged-drugged.Mr. Bhangeri takes it in the name ofShivaji’s buti,Herbal pasteTo be abnormal, half-madAnd his brain dulled unto.Mr.Darpiya, daru piyo,Take daru, I mean Indian daru,Low-quality local daru,Made from rotten riceOr from mahua buds.Taking daru, lie you fallen,Fallen on the roadways,The sideways,Into the drainsOr the bushesBut leave not,…
Ghanashyam,
Dark blue,Ghanashyam,Ghana Shyam,Dark BlueAn image conjures uponThe mind’s planeWith the taking ofThe nameGhanashyam,One which is blue-coloured,What,Blue-coloured imageOf KrishnaWith the Golden FlutePiping and standing beforeWith a peacock crown over the headAnd looking bluish-bluishAnd beautiful!
Ek burquawalli ko dekha
Aur jo mein marane lagaaUs burkhawalli pei,Burkhawalli ladaki pei,Jhanknei lagaUs burkhawalli ko,Muhabbat karnei jo lagaBurkhawalli ko dekhkar.After seeing a burqa-clad maidenFell I in love withAnd started I dying forThat burqa-clad,Burqa-cad maiden,Peeping into,Started peeping intoThe burkhawalli,Started I loving herOn seeing the burkhawalli.
I went on looking you and you went on looking me,
As a fatigued traveller,A passer-by on the starnge path of life,And near the tree halted and paused ITo ask you about the pathway end.It grew dark and the birds started chirping,I struggled and looked through the bamboo bushesThe eyelashes of yours,Sad and wet,The voice choked withAnd you retreating to your hamlet.
It is good to remember Baba Saheb
But we should also not forget itThe nobility ofSayjirao Gaekwad III of Vadodara,The erstwhile king for his kind gesture and good intentionOf helping and get sent to for higher studies.