Wincing with pain
on stepping sharp edge
we wanted to set choreography
for the writhing foot.
We tried to cover silk cloth
on thorny branch that pierced eyeballs.
We tried to unfold secrets
secure behind blood stained skin.

Did we think of slogans of autonomy
fused in group songs?
’We all’ forget the possibility
of hibernating inner doors
opening before dawn.
Internal information itself
age old adversary!

Now on, emotional shadow of tiger
haunting birds of light—
that do not know
that heavenly abodes have no floral avenues,
that on sharp edged bridges
dangle windpipes,—
envelop entire sky.

Who guards the song
that covers inaccessible jungles?
For the whirl wind spanning earth and sky
who is insider, outsider who?

This is a spectacle of
winged butterflies
flapping across gardens of humane views.

Excuse me every one ,
it is not an ordinary soul….
an inconceivable warm garland of [...]]]> We attempted composing tunes for
buzz of the black bee
dance of dragon fly
sweeping winds of storm
shattering noise of guns.

Wincing with pain
on stepping sharp edge
we wanted to set choreography
for the writhing foot.
We tried to cover silk cloth
on thorny branch that pierced eyeballs.
We tried to unfold secrets
secure behind blood stained skin.

Did we think of slogans of autonomy
fused in group songs?
’We all’ forget the possibility
of hibernating inner doors
opening before dawn.
Internal information itself
age old adversary!

Now on, emotional shadow of tiger
haunting birds of light—
that do not know
that heavenly abodes have no floral avenues,
that on sharp edged bridges
dangle windpipes,—
envelop entire sky.

Who guards the song
that covers inaccessible jungles?
For the whirl wind spanning earth and sky
who is insider, outsider who?

This is a spectacle of
winged butterflies
flapping across gardens of humane views.

Excuse me every one ,
it is not an ordinary soul….
an inconceivable warm garland of relentless sacrifices
bound to invisible fetters,
it is a cascading melodious breeze from peerless peaks ,
holding sun dhamaruka
frenzied , frenetic diluvian dance, it is–
with dark cloud blanket on shoulder
crescendo of rituals of global populace, it is–
a star studded new sword of fresh butter , it is–
swimming in rivers of flames
amazing snow fish of soft voice, it is–
enabling to see the piercing arrows
across bosom, a transparent pigeon, it is.

I salute you all .
It is not our envisioned poetic cover of secrecy,
an unruffled light house on shore
holding a lantern, it is–
It is a wooden boat
negotiating unfriendly currents in sea…
For the sake of the world around
spreading harmonious notes, storm the black bee!

Original: Devipriya (Telugu)
Translated by: Dr T.S.Chandra Mouli and B.B.Sarojini

The sky
that endlessly stretches its hands
in all direction…

The waters
Whether they overwhelm the banks
or attenuate to a bare ten-feet tributary
but, nevertheless run…

The wheel on the move
even if it were
that of a child’s tricycle …

The nib of a writing pen…

The mote of dust wafted by the wind…

And, even the wall-clock
that runs half an hour behind…

than
a beatless heart
like you.

Original: Devipriya (Telugu)
Translation: Nauduri Murthy