-William Carlos Williams (1923)
so much depends
upon
a red wheel
barrow
glazed with rain
water
beside the white
chickens.
[One of the poems that we learnt either in school or college, can't remember exactly. And I have always remembered this one for its meaning...I have never quite figured out what it really means. If anyone understands the usefulness of this poem, let me know. -PP]
Monday, July 18, 2011
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
राजहंस सांगतो किर्तीच्या तुझ्या कथा
राजहंस सांगतो कितीर्च्या तुझ्या कथा
हृदयी प्रीत जागते जाणता, अजाणता
पाहिले तुला न मी, तरी ही नित्य पाहते
लाजूनी मनोमनी, उगीच धूंद राहते
ठावूक न मजसी जरी निषध देश कोणता
दिवस रात्र ओढणी, या मनास लागते
तुझीच जाहल्या परी, मी सदैव वागते
मैत्रिणीस सांगते, तुझी अमोल योग्यता
निमंत्रणाविना पुन्हा हंस येई तो वनी
नाद चित्र रेखितो, तुझेच मंद कुजनी
वेड वाढवून तो उडून जाय मागूता
हृदयी प्रीत जागते जाणता, अजाणता
पाहिले तुला न मी, तरी ही नित्य पाहते
लाजूनी मनोमनी, उगीच धूंद राहते
ठावूक न मजसी जरी निषध देश कोणता
दिवस रात्र ओढणी, या मनास लागते
तुझीच जाहल्या परी, मी सदैव वागते
मैत्रिणीस सांगते, तुझी अमोल योग्यता
निमंत्रणाविना पुन्हा हंस येई तो वनी
नाद चित्र रेखितो, तुझेच मंद कुजनी
वेड वाढवून तो उडून जाय मागूता
| गीतकार: ग. दि. माडगुळकर संगीतकार: सुधीर फडके गायक: आशा भोसले चित्रपट: सुवासिनी (१९६१) |
Monday, July 11, 2011
धीवर पक्षी
तळ्याकाठी गाती लाटा
लाटामधे उभी झाड
झाडावर धीवरची
दिसे चोच लाल जाड
शुभ्र छाती पिंगे पोट
जसा चाफा यावा फुली
पंख जणू थंडी मधे
बन्डि घाले आमसुली
गड्या पाखरा तू असा
सारा देखणा रे कसा?
पाण्यावर उडताना
नको मारू मात्रा मासा
[ही कविता कोणाची आहे ते आता आठवत नाही. ही कविता आम्ही बालभारती च्या कॅसेट वर ऐकली. कॅसेट वरची कविता आणि अगदी त्याची चाल पण व्यवस्थित आठवते. कोणाला ह्या कवितेबद्दल काही माहिती असल्यास जरूर द्यावी. -PP]
लाटामधे उभी झाड
झाडावर धीवरची
दिसे चोच लाल जाड
शुभ्र छाती पिंगे पोट
जसा चाफा यावा फुली
पंख जणू थंडी मधे
बन्डि घाले आमसुली
गड्या पाखरा तू असा
सारा देखणा रे कसा?
पाण्यावर उडताना
नको मारू मात्रा मासा
[ही कविता कोणाची आहे ते आता आठवत नाही. ही कविता आम्ही बालभारती च्या कॅसेट वर ऐकली. कॅसेट वरची कविता आणि अगदी त्याची चाल पण व्यवस्थित आठवते. कोणाला ह्या कवितेबद्दल काही माहिती असल्यास जरूर द्यावी. -PP]
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
सरयू तीरावरी अयोध्या
सरयू-तीरावरी
अयोध्या मनुनिर्मित नागरी
त्या नगरीच्या विशालतेवर
उभ्या राहिल्या वास्तू सुंदर
मधून वाहती मार्ग समांतर
रथ, वाजी, गज, पथिक चालती, नटुनी त्यांच्यावरी १
घराघरावर रत्नतोरणेअवती भवती रम्य उपवनेत्यात रंगती नृत्य गायनेमृदंग वीणा नित्य नादती, अलका नगरीपरी २
स्त्रिया पतिव्रता, पुरुषही धार्मिक,
पुत्र उपजाती निजकुल-दीपक
नृशंस ना कुणी, कुणी ना नास्तिक,
अतृप्तीचा कुठे ना वावर, नगरी, घरी, अंतरी ३
इक्ष्वाकू-कुल कीर्ती भूषणराजा दशरथ धर्मपरायणत्या नगरीचे करितो रक्षणगृही चंद्रसा, नगरी इंद्रसा, सूर्य जसा संगरी ४
दशरथास त्या तीघी भार्या
सुवंशजा त्या सुमुखी आर्या
सिद्ध पतीच्या सेवाकार्य
बहुश्रुता त्या रूपशालिनी, अतुलप्रभा सुंदरी ५
तिघी स्त्रियांच्या प्रीतिसंगामीतिन्ही लोकीचे सुख ये धामीएक उणे पण गृहस्थाश्रमीपुत्रोदय पण अजुनी नव्हता, प्रीतीच्या अंबरी ६
शल्य एक ते कौसल्येसी
दिसे सुमित्रा सदा उदासी
कैक कैकयी करी नवसासी
दशरथासही व्यथा एक ती, छळिते अभ्यंतरी ७
राज्सौख्य ते सौख्य जनांचेएकाच चिंतन लक्ष मनांचेकाय काज या सौख्य-धनाचे?कल्पतरूला फूल नसे का? वसंत सरला तरी? ८
गीतकार: ग. दि. माडगुळकर
संगीतकार, गायक: सुधीर फडके
Monday, July 4, 2011
London
-William Blake (1757-1827)
I wandered through each chartered street,
Near where the chartered Thames does flow,
A mark in every face I meet,
Marks of weakness, marks of woe.
In every cry of every man,
In every infant's cry of fear,
In every voice, in every ban,
The mind-forged manacles I hear:
How the chimney-sweeper's cry
Every blackening church appals,
And the hapless soldier's sigh
Runs in blood down palace-walls.
But most, through midnight streets I hear
How the youthful harlot's curse
Blasts the new-born infant's tear,
And blights with plagues the marriage-hearse.
Near where the chartered Thames does flow,
A mark in every face I meet,
Marks of weakness, marks of woe.
In every cry of every man,
In every infant's cry of fear,
In every voice, in every ban,
The mind-forged manacles I hear:
How the chimney-sweeper's cry
Every blackening church appals,
And the hapless soldier's sigh
Runs in blood down palace-walls.
But most, through midnight streets I hear
How the youthful harlot's curse
Blasts the new-born infant's tear,
And blights with plagues the marriage-hearse.
Sunday, July 3, 2011
The Road Not Taken
- Robert Frost
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear,
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I marked the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear,
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I marked the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
Friday, July 1, 2011
She Dwelt Among Untrodden Ways
-William Wordsworth
She dwelt among the untrodden ways
Beside the springs of Dove,
Maid whom there were none to praise
And very few to love:
A violet by a mosy tone
Half hidden from the eye!
---Fair as a star, when only one
Is shining in the sky.
She lived unknown, and few could know
When Lucy ceased to be;
But she is in her grave, and, oh,
The difference to me!
Beside the springs of Dove,
Maid whom there were none to praise
And very few to love:
A violet by a mosy tone
Half hidden from the eye!
---Fair as a star, when only one
Is shining in the sky.
She lived unknown, and few could know
When Lucy ceased to be;
But she is in her grave, and, oh,
The difference to me!
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