Wednesday, November 5, 2008
THE MAD, APOEM
THE MAD
K.SATCHIDANANDAN
The mad have no caste
nor religion.They transcend
gender, live outside
ideologies. We do not deserve
their innocence.
Their language is not of dreams
but of another reality.Their love
is moonlight.It overflows
on the full moon day.
Looking up they see
gods we have never heard of.They are
shaking their wings when
we fancy they are
shrugging their shoulders.They hold
even flies have souls
and the green god of grasshoppers
leaps up on thin legs.
At times they see trees bleed,hear
lions roaring from the streets.At times
they watch Heaven gleaming
in a kitten’s eyes,just as
we do. But they alone can hear
ants sing in a chorus.
While patting the air
they are taming a cyclone
over the Mediteranean.With
their heavy tread,they stop
a volcano from erupting.
They have another measure
of time.Our century is
their second.Twenty seconds,
and they reach Christ; six more,
they are with the Buddha.
In a single day,they reach
the big bang at the beginning.
They go on walkng restless for,
their earth is boiling still.
The mad are not
mad like us.
(Translated from the Malayalam by the poet)
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6 comments:
ഭ്രാന്തന്മാര് നമ്മെപ്പോലെ ഭ്രാന്തമാരല്ല എന്ന വരി ഒരു പാട് ആവര്ത്തിച്ചിട്ടുണ്ട് മനസ്സില്
IS MOONLIGHT .IT OVERFLOWS
ON THE FULL MOON DAY . "THAT´S GREAT."
Can somebody explain me this poem plz. It's very very urgent plz
Can somebody explain me this poem plz. It's very very urgent plz
The Mad, A Poem is not a simple poem,but contains in the layers of meaning contrasting and contradicting each other. Those who are mad have a story of own,but there are also some people differently mad and they are but poets. There is a thesis as well as an anti-thesis which appears to be Shawian. Noting is what it seems to be and what it seems o be is nothing. The mad are not so mad as we are.They are what hey are in reality, but not so intriguing and conceited like us.
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