Mamta Sagar

Inside the river are the sky,
the cloud, the cold sun.
cupped in my hands the river.
...

Sob! The rain sobs!
like the sobbing depressed mind
sob by sob it rains.
...

Me and him
getting wet;
in the distanc
...

The sharp word,
the pricking silence,
as spear-points tear into flesh,
the pain pours in red.
...

On the edge of a platform of light
A shadow like darkness
Crouches and watches
Moves so slowly it's as if it hasn't moved at all
...

the song,
when it fell
crumbled
collapsed,
...

The suragi flower's fragrance,
the fragrance of the earth
after the rains, the fragrance
of cashew roasted on burning coal -
where do these sneak in
from? - for a second it
hit me, and vanished -

Every moment has a
fragrance unique, something
that happened some time
descends on this moment -
as if forgotten time
was consulted all over.

Behind the staircase, there,
in the dark, crouching,
with silent sobs,
I had sat.
On the sidewall of that
veranda, I sat quietly,
and spent the evening,
facing the gloom.
What are these memories?
- like the blowing
of the wind, like this,
over and over, not blinking
an eye, these images
pile up on the canvas -
things seen, not seen,
in quick succession.

I sink into them
like in a cloud of
images fast-drifting.

Somebody calls, somewhere -
who called, where?
which door-latch makes this
rat-a-tat sound -
when you open the door,
a hundred questions.
What time is it now?
This time has no past or future,
its body is full of recurring memories.
Translated from Kannada by Chitra Panikkar with the poet
...

Sorrows held back and stored
within, break loose, ooze
out, comes down as rain.

The pitter-patter of drops
scatter dreams; memories
are flooded into, destroyed;
it rains and rains, non-stop.
Desires, collected
by stretching the hand
towards the sky,
carefully stored in the
hand's bowl, slipped
through the fingers.

Drenched, turning into
water, filled my eyes
with the downpour.

Lips open, but before
words can change into
smile, thick clouds come
to engulf the silence.

The drizzle of tears
can't be seen; head
to toe pours the rain,
dripping sorrow.

Like this, like that, what
sort of rain is this? -
The pouring rain broke the
sky's heart, and the
ground I stand on
is full of muddy slush.

Like that -
Like this -
what sort of rain is this?
In this pouring rain
the sky's heart breaks,
the ground I stand on
turns muddy slush.

Translated by Chitra Panikkar and Mamta Sagar
...

wie sich eingesperrte trauer
plötzlich flutend bahn bricht
in regen ohne unterlaß.
prasselnde tropfen, verstreute träume,
die erinnerungen weggespült... es schüttet unaufhörlich!!
die hände zur schale gen himmel gehalten
werden die hierin bewahrten wünsche
und träume nass, lösen sich
im wasser auf und rinnen
durch die finger... die augen füllen sich mit tränen,
bevor ein wort die lippen zum lächeln formt,
zieht schweigen wie eine dunkle wolke auf.
nieseln, das die tränen überdeckt.
von kopf bis fuß vom regen der trauer durchnässt!!
dieser regen! solch ein regen! was für ein regen!!
in diesem regen bricht das herz des himmels,
der boden unter den füßen wird schlamm.

Übertragung ins Deutsche von Nicolai Kobus
...

Like this a petite body, inside the body a mind
The mind contains a heart.
Body of the mind and mind of the body
Is there a link between the two?

Though identical, they roam the worlds unalike
Though together, they remain far apart

Is body a maaya or maaya the mind
maaya is illusion - the fading heart!
Maaya has a body, maaya has a mind
This is the maaya heart…

Mind's body has wings and an expanse of sky to fly!
Body's mind though melts, to flow it simply shies?

Detached from bodies, detached from minds,
Lingers in memory, rhymes in breathing, as darkness in day light
Perishes, persists, transcends to elsewhere…
This stagnant body, silent mind, and steadily beating heart.

English translation by Mamta Sagar
...

So ein kleiner Köprer, im Körper der Geist,
der Geist und sein Herz.
Körper, des Körpers Geist,
was sind sie füreinander?

Auch gleichartig durchwanderten sie getrennte Welten.
Auch mit einander verbunden, könnte die Entfernung zwischen ihnen nicht größer sein.

Wäre nur eins von beiden, Körper oder Geist eine Illusion,
ginge das Herz für immer verloren.
Der Körper ist eine Illusion, der Geist ist eine Illusion
und das Herz ist es auch.

Der Körper des Geistes spannt seine Flügel aus und fliegt unter dem weiten Himmel.
Und immer noch sei der verflüssigte Geist des Körpes nicht im Fluss?

Körper und Geist, hundertmal untergegangen,
im Gedächtnis, im Atemrhythmus, in der Finsternis hinter dem Licht
noch verschollen, werden sie dennoch die Zeiten überdauern,
regungslose Körper, ihr stummer Geist, ihr gleichmäßig schlagendes Herz.

Ins Deutsche übertragen von Orsolya Kalasz
...

One there, one here, dreams,
mixed up dreams;
dreams, two of the same kind, like
two-in-one, the dreams.
Just like that... hand
in hand, lip to lip, body
to body, mind on mind...

Caress me, look into me, says her dream.
A smiling response, his dream.
He dreams to drink her in; she desires
to encircle him as a dream-desire.

His dream is her, and her dream, him;
they transcend beyond the him and her
becoming a dream
And thus, they dream...

The dreams vainly long for the real; his
dream keeps looking, caressing,
takes her in, and dreams of sinking into her.
Her dream encircles,
whirrs around, takes him on,
peeks at him, and dances enraptured.
Her body is soft and light. She can
spread that infinite lightness of desire
and conquer the sky's expanses.
To swim, to fly - they start off
with dreams as carriers. He, the fish,
and she, the bird. In search of each
other, he dives the deep; she spans
the heights.
On waves, in the sparkling water,
unblinkingly, he glides from
crest to trough, searches for
foot-prints, dives into the empire of
dreams. If she searches, one end to
the other end of the widening sky
expanse, he's not there. The soft touch
on the body, the mild fingering of a vacuum
desire - in the vacuum of such expanse
there is no place for dreams.

Down there, in the water, seeing
her there, far above, he bounces up;
She bends, sweeps down, and encircles
the waves. This is the real; it
cannot be held.
Once reality strikes, the dream
is gone; the dream is a memory.
Once turned into reality, dreams
dream of turning back into dream.
For, if realities should dream,
the sea should split, and sky and
earth should meet.
It has to happen!

Translated by Chitra Panikkar and Mamta Sagar
...

Zwei Träume: dieser und jener ... die sich verbinden,
verschränken ... nun in einander verwoben, als wären sie
eins. Träume. Einfach so: Hand in Hand, Lippe auf Lippe,
Körper an Körper, Seele zu Seele, einfach so. Oder so:

Über ihren Traum 'Liebkose mich ... schau nur mich an,
bitte' muss sein Traum lächeln. Sein Verlangen, sich ihren
Traum vor Augen zu führen; ihr Verlangen, sich um seines
zu drehen. Sie als sein Traum, er als ihrer. Beide möchten
das Er und das Sie überschreiten, möchten selbst zu Träumen
werden, träumend ... träumend ...

Träume wollen wirklich werden. Sein Traum: sie nie aus
den Augen zu verlieren, sie hinter den Augen aufzubewahren.
Er will in ihrer Tiefe schwimmen. Sie träumt davon, ihre
Flügel zu spreizen, sich um ihn zu drehen, sie wieder zu
falten und ihn zu umarmen. Beim Tanzen wird sie ihn
vorsichtig picken. Ihr Körper ist weich, wie sanfte Seide
sind die Flügel, und die Sehnsucht weit wie der Himmel.

Mit ihren Träumen vom Schwimmen, vom Fliegen, brechen
sie aus. Wird er Fisch, wird sie Vogel. Sie suchen einander,
er in der Tiefe, sie in der Höhe.

Auf ihren Spuren taucht er ein. Kein Blinzeln, obwohl die
Wellen blenden. Wird eins mit Wasser und Traum. Am
Himmel hingegen gibt es ihn nicht. Das sanfte Erkunden
des Körpers, und wie die langen Finger das Verlangen
wecken. Kein Traum hat Platz an einem Himmel, der in
Stücken liegt.

Er schwimmt am Grund, und wenn er sie am Himmel
sieht, taucht er auf, versucht zu springen. Sie stößt herab
und dreht sich auf den Wellen. Träume von früherem
Beisammensein. Doch an der Wirklichkeit zerbrechen
Träume. Sie werden zur Erinnerung. Verwirklichte
Träume träumen davon, wieder Träume zu werden.

Bevor Fakten Träume werden können, sollte sich das
Meer geteilt haben. Dann kämen Himmel und Erde zur
Deckung. Nur auf diese Art kann es gelingen.

Übertragung ins Deutsche von Ulf Stolterfoht
...

Inside the river are the sky,
the cloud, the cold sun.
cupped in my hands the river.

If I throw up my hands,
the river spills in drops, scattering
sky, cloud, and sun all over me.

If I drink the river from my hands
then within me are
the sun, the cloud, the sky.

Tell me then, who is in whom?
Translated from Kannada by Chitra Panikkar with the poet
...

Sob! The rain sobs!
like the sobbing depressed mind
sob by sob it rains.
Hailstones of grief and despair
pour as downpour.
Sorrows descend like torrential rain.
Knitting the torn sleeves of mind,
the fine rain.
My song roots
in this rain that has no end.
A poem, an unbroken thread of
words
and words
and words
pours the rain
flows the song
wet everywhere.
Children in the rain, rainy children search for me;
drenched completely,
soaked in my songs
wet smiles on their lips
the lines that I wrote
rain again
flow again
drop by drop
word by word
threaded through
the song-flow.

Translated from Kannada by Chitra Panikkar with the poet
...

Me and him
getting wet;
in the distance between our welded bodies,
and me remembering
the dark dense woods of his country.

Tall trees,
nests of love in each bough
‘it rains like this there too'
he whispers

his black curly locks
play over my forehead
and i whisper;
‘it rains like that here too'
lightning fills the eyes
and desire rains.

My hot breath
plays over him;
his smile
plays over my lips.
The rain waits outside
as we wait, getting wet within;
he the rain within me
I the rain within him
and without.
Now
his memories pour as rain
like a forgotten dream;
returning here, the
fragrance of his love

and there,
my memory drops
in his heart.

Rain, it pours
here and there.
Translated from Kannada by Chitra Panikkar with the poet
...

The sharp word,
the pricking silence,
as spear-points tear into flesh,
the pain pours in red.
Drop by drop it falls on the page
as words - a bead-necklace.
Rubies, I am fond of.
On my touch, the flow of blood
stops; if I wish, drops
crystallise into a necklace.
This lump in my throat;
around it lies sorrow,
a double-layered string,
on which hangs my heart-locket,
beating with heaviness.
Whether he gave it or I
took it, the truth is
- it's broken.

These red-drops of ruby-crystals
one by one, I've collected, saved;
I've many like this.

Translated from Kannada by Chitra Panikkar with the poet
...

On the edge of a platform of light
A shadow like darkness
Crouches and watches
Moves so slowly it's as if it hasn't moved at all
Flows as if it hasn't flowed at all
Regurgitates the story of darkness.
In the pitch-dark darkness
There is no hatred no smouldering
No us no them no we no you
The pathway between sleep and waking is full
Of dreams blossoming, creating every moment
A new world

Shadows that have walked all the way from the town of light
In darkness they lose their form and features
Take off their hatred and smouldering
Water merges with water
Dissolves indivisible
Flows in the dark as darkness
The darkness has no hands to bring hand and hand together
To kiss no lips no yoni no linga
Bodies melt in the dark
The formless merges with formlessness
Exists
Spreads darkly

The moment the shadow steps out of the darkness
Such a ghastly form springs up from under its feet
Such a big-long contorted-distorted form
Takes off its breasts hides its yoni becomes lingaikya
Shedding she for he
From womanliness to manliness merging
With the evil desire to rule millions of galaxies
AkhilaandaKotiBrahmanda
It walks trampling the shadow out of existence

As the shadows quietly crouch
On the edge of a platform of light
They shrink the dreams they had in darkness
Look forward once again to the nights that are to come

Translated from Kannada by Sampurna Chattarji with the poe
...

the song,
when it fell
crumbled
collapsed,
the earth shuddered
flowed in red
tomorrow's history
(and the lines that remain out of it)
unsung songs
quiver and quake
in soil and sludge
shattered dreams
buried wishes
flayed bodies

the last rays like pyre
set the river ablaze.
...

ಸುರಗಿ ಹೂವಿನ ಕಂಪು
ಮಳೆಯ ಮಣ್ಣಿನ ಕಂಪು
ಒಲೆಯೊಳಗೆ ಸುಟ್ಟ ಗೇರು ಬೀಜದ ಕಂಪು
ಎಲ್ಲಿಂದ ಸುಳಿದಿತ್ತು ಈ ಕಂಪು
ಒಂದೇ ಕ್ಷಣ ಧಿಗ್ಗನೆದ್ದು ಮುಳುಗಿತ್ತು.

ಘಳಿಗೆಗೊಂದು ವಾಸನೆ
ಎಂದೋ ಎಲ್ಲೋ ಆಗಿದ್ದು
ತಟ್ಟನೆ ವಾಸ್ತವಕ್ಕಿಳಿದ ಹಾಗೆ
ಮರೆತ ಏನೇನ್ನೋ ಮತ್ತೆ
ಕರೆದಹಾಗೆ.

ಮಹಡಿ ಮೆಟ್ಟಿಲ ಹಿಂದೆ
ಕತ್ತಲಲಿ ಅವಿತು ಕೂತಿದ್ದು
ಹೊಡೆದುಕೊಳ್ಳುವ ಎದೆಯ
ಬಿಗಿ ಹಿಡಿದು ಬಿಕ್ಕದೆ ಅತ್ತಿದ್ದು
ಜಗಲಿ ಬದಿ ಮಬ್ಬಿಗೆ ಮುಖ ಕೊಟ್ಟು
ಸಂಜೆ ಸುಮ್ಮನೆ ಕೂತು ಕಳೆದಿದ್ದು.

ಇದು ಯಾವ ನೆನಪು
ಗಾಳಿ ಬೀಸಿದ ಹಾಗೆ;
ಹೀಗೆ ಮೇಲಿಂದಮೇಲೆ
ರೆಪ್ಪೆ ಮಿಟುಕಿಸದಹಾಗೆ
ಕಣ್ಣು ಮುಚ್ಚಿದರೆ ಚಿತ್ರಗಳು
ಭಿತ್ತಿಯಲೆ ಬೆರತು,
ಕಂಡಿದ್ದು,
ಕಾಣದ್ದು,
ಎಲ್ಲ ರಾಶಿ ರಾಶಿ........

ಮೋಡದಲಿ ಮುಳಗಿದ ಹಾಗೆ
ಚಕ ಚಕನೆ ಸರಿದು......

ಯಾರೋ ಕರೆದರು..... ಎಲ್ಲೋ!
ಯಾರು ಕರೆದರು?
ಎಲ್ಲಿ?
ಇದು ಯಾವ ಬಾಗಿಲಿನಗಳಿ
ಕಟ ಕಟ ಸದ್ದು...
ತೆರೆದರೆ ನೂರೆಂಟು ಪ್ರಶ್ನೆ

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...