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Catherine Cate Coblentz THE BLUE CAT OF CASTLE TOWN

Kurzgeschichte
Englisch
25765 Wörter
Ab 18 Jahren
2
0

Catherine Cate Coblentz (June 5, 1897 – May 30, 1951) was an American writer, best known for her children's books in the 1930s and 1940s.Originally from Hardwick, Vermont,[clarification needed] Catherine Cate worked during World War I at the National Bureau of Standards in Washington, D.C., where she met her future husband, William Coblentz, an American scientist who was a pioneer in the field of infrared spectroscopy. They were married on June 10, 1924. Two daughters were born to the couple, but both died young.[1] Coblentz published a poem on Mars in Popular Astronomy magazine in 1924, the same year that her husband was measuring the temperature of Mars at the Lowell Observatory.[2] Mrs. Coblentz later achieved success as a writer of children's books, and her The Blue Cat of Castle Town won the Lewis Carroll Shelf Award in 1958 and was a Newbery Honor book.[3][4] Older copies of this work and some of her other books can still be found, and some are considered to be collector's items. In 1930 Coblentz received a B.A. degree from George Washington University. In honor of her later work, she was presented with a Distinguished Alumni Achievement Award by her alma mater in 1945. In the mid-to-late 1940s, Coblentz was instrumental in raising money to buy the land on which the Cleveland Park Neighborhood Library was built on Connecticut Avenue in Washington, D.C. A set of windows, with illustrations based on her books, remain on display in the library. Catherine Cate Coblentz, her husband, and an infant daughter are buried in Rock Creek Cemetery in Washington, D.C. (Section O). [mehr]

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Anwer Ghani HE IS A SOLDIER

Narrative Prose Poems

Lyrik und Poesie
Englisch
6574 Wörter
Ab 3 Jahren
63
0

"He is a soldier" is a collection of narrative prose poems by Iraqi prose poetry writer Anwer Ghani . In literature, there is poetry and prose, and in the middle prose - poetry. According to the characters of the superficial and deep structures of the text, each text or writing has a superficial structure and it is the first building and level of understanding in the process of hearing or reading, and a deep structure which is the analytical level and symbolism in this writing system. While poetry is characterized by deep rhythmic and fragmented superficial structures, prose, on the contrary, is distinguished by its superficial and deep non-rhythmic structure. But in prose poetry, we find the non-rhythmic, non-fragmented surface structure and the deep rhythmic, fragmented structure, which is the reason for the crossbreeding of prose poetry. So, prose poetry is a mixture of prose, poetry, rhythm and non-rhythm. Prose poetry can be produced in a narrative or lyric manner. If the pattern is lyrical in both superficial and deep layers, then there will be lyrical prose poetry, while if the pattern is narrative in both superficial and deep layers; there will be narrative prose poetry. But we can find a superficial narrative structure with a deep singing, lyrical structure. In this case, narratolyricism, there will be a hybrid of lyrical prose poetry, and this is the second hybrid within the first hybrid of the lyrical poetry. So narrative prose poetry is a hybrid within a hybrid. The narrative prose poem is a narrative poetic text written in one block, in a horizontal form and based on the narrative writing and deep poetic revelation, which is one of the works of the “Arab Renewal Group” which was founded in Baghdad in 2015. Anwer Ghani [mehr]

Stichwörter: anwer ghani expressive narrative prose poetry

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Jenifer Schindovski Fantatische Wesen

Fantasy
Englisch
2184 Wörter
Ab 16 Jahren
53
1

Poem Collection Fantastic Being Paint with these colors of the raven Watercolor, paint all this as I want.How Like a scream went through,when I looked at the clock this deep pain,it was probably once again,as so often in this yearmy heart. Blacklike the fields of this raven ,in the dark night. White as cold as this snow outside.Red as the embers of blood of a woe,with dark genes. Blue like a dance in the moonlight,dark skies, all given over to him,so that this moon again Kront up there. Gray as these dark shadows made,is this breeze from the night,so late after eight o'clock. Shadows lielike a veil over this place,what is hidden there in them. Purple like mist from a bonfire of this witch,hidden outside deep in the forest. Colors,Black of the raven, white of the snow,red of blood, blue of moonlight,orange of the sunset, gray of shadow,purple of mist, on this paper,here before me, show youwhat you should see. Look at this picture,before you go through the desertof ice and snow. How do you like these colorsthat all come together in this picture?Where will this snowstorm in front of the house,from the cold made by the night drove,when will you rest me? [mehr]

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Jon P. Gunn The Apes of Eden - The Antiquities

From The Journey Bigins

Fantasy
Englisch
20120 Wörter
Ab 12 Jahren
270
0

Can one literary work be an epic poem, a tutorial on philosophies from Mesopotamia to the present and a laugh-out-loud compendium of satirical humor? Welcome to The Apes of Eden - The Journey Begins. I'm kinda glad you got us in this fix-- you never let me do my magic tricks. In the year 19067, a tribe of killer apes leaves Eden in search of God. They face evil creatures from Hell and Heaven alike. The story is told in the words of Literate Louie, the Scribe of the Tribe. A tribe of killer apes living an idyllic life in the Garden of Eden begins a monumental quest to search the post-apocalyptic Earth in search of God. The Journey Begins is the first of a trilogy. The Apes of Eden is written in iambic pentameter. It is a humorous look at religion and philosophy through the eyes of an intelligent ape. The Apes of Eden is written in rhymed iambic pentameter thus falling into the category called heroic couplets. Each line has 10 syllables and the pairs of lines rhyme. While many lines were written in 10 syllables in very early Latin, it was Geoffrey Chaucer who added the meter and originated iambic pentameter in the English Language which was further immortalized in many plays and sonnets of William Shakespeare. Jon P. Gunn wrote The Apes of Eden over a period of many, many years beginning as a teenager. He read Spenser, Chaucer, Dante and Cervantes. Many oddball philosophies, from solopsism to deism are explored and mocked. Allusions to a broad spectrum of myths and canons are made. Jon never graduated from college even though he had twice the number of hours to graduate. He was too busy reading the great works of literature to bother. He shared his work with a friend. It is that man and his friend, Rick Lakin who are bringing you Jon’s work. We think it’s very good. We hope you do too. The Apes of Eden is written in Rhymed Iambic Pentameter thus falling into the category called Heroic Couplets. Each line has 10 syllables and the pairs of lines rhyme. While many lines were written in 10 syllables in very early Latin, it was Geoffrey Chaucer who added the meter and originated iambic pentameter in the English Language which was further immortalized in many plays and sonnets of William Shakespeare. [mehr]

Stichwörter: iambic pentameter

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JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL POEMS OF JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL

Lyrik und Poesie
Englisch
139003 Wörter
Ab 18 Jahren
2
0

James Russell Lowell (/ˈloʊəl/; February 22, 1819 – August 12, 1891) was an American Romantic poet, critic, editor, and diplomat. He is associated with the Fireside Poets, a group of New England writers who were among the first American poets who rivaled the popularity of British poets. These poets usually used conventional forms and meters in their poetry, making them suitable for families entertaining at their fireside. Lowell graduated from Harvard College in 1838, despite his reputation as a troublemaker, and went on to earn a law degree from Harvard Law School. He published his first collection of poetry in 1841 and married Maria White in 1844. He and his wife had several children, though only one survived past childhood. The couple soon became involved in the movement to abolish slavery, with Lowell using poetry to express his anti-slavery views and taking a job in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, as the editor of an abolitionist newspaper. After moving back to Cambridge, Lowell was one of the founders of a journal called The Pioneer, which lasted only three issues. He gained notoriety in 1848 with the publication of A Fable for Critics, a book-length poem satirizing contemporary critics and poets. The same year, he published The Biglow Papers, which increased his fame. He went on to publish several other poetry collections and essay collections throughout his literary career. Maria White died in 1853, and Lowell accepted a professorship of languages at Harvard in 1854; he continued to teach there for twenty years. He traveled to Europe before officially assuming his role in 1856. He married his second wife, Frances Dunlap, shortly thereafter in 1857. That year Lowell also became editor of The Atlantic Monthly. It was not until 20 years later that Lowell received his first political appointment, the ambassadorship to the Kingdom of Spain. He was later appointed ambassador to the Court of St. James's. He spent his last years in Cambridge, in the same estate where he was born, and died there in 1891. Lowell believed that the poet played an important role as a prophet and critic of society. He used poetry for reform, particularly in abolitionism. However, Lowell's commitment to the anti-slavery cause wavered over the years, as did his opinion on African-Americans. Lowell attempted to emulate the true Yankee accent in the dialogue of his characters, particularly in The Biglow Papers. This depiction of the dialect, as well as Lowell's many satires, was an inspiration to writers like Mark Twain and H.L. Mencken. [mehr]

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William Cullen Bryant THE SKELETON'S CAVE

Belletristik
Englisch
14717 Wörter
Ab 18 Jahren
2
0

William Cullen Bryant From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia William Cullen Bryant William Cullen Bryant Cabinet Card by Mora-crop.jpg from cabinet card of Bryant, c. 1876 Born November 3, 1794 Cummington, Massachusetts, U.S. Died June 12, 1878 (aged 83) New York City, New York, U.S. Occupation Poet, journalist, and editor Nationality American Notable works "Thanatopsis" Signature Portal icon Literature portal William Cullen Bryant (November 3, 1794 – June 12, 1878) was an American romantic poet, journalist, and long-time editor of the New York Evening Post. Contents 1 Youth and education 2 Poetry 3 Editorial career 4 Later years 5 Critical response 6 Legacy 7 See also 8 Notes 9 References 10 Further reading 11 External links Youth and education Bryant was born on November 3, 1794,[1] in a log cabin near Cummington, Massachusetts; the home of his birth is today marked with a plaque.[2] He was the second son of Peter Bryant (b. Aug. 12, 1767, d. Mar. 20, 1820), a doctor and later a state legislator, and Sarah Snell (b. Dec. 4, 1768, d. May 6, 1847). The genealogies of both of his parents trace back to passengers on the Mayflower; his mother's to John Alden (b. 1599, d. 1687); his father's to Francis Cooke (b. 1577, d. 1663). Bryant and his family moved to a new home when he was two years old. The William Cullen Bryant Homestead, his boyhood home, is now a museum. After just two years at Williams College, he studied law in Worthington and Bridgewater in Massachusetts, and he was admitted to the bar in 1815. He then began practicing law in nearby Plainfield, walking the seven miles from Cummington every day. On one of these walks, in December 1815, he noticed a single bird flying on the horizon; the sight moved him enough to write "To a Waterfowl".[3] Bryant developed an interest in poetry early in life. Under his father's tutelage, he emulated Alexander Pope and other Neo-Classic British poets. "The Embargo", a savage attack on President Thomas Jefferson published in 1808, reflected Dr. Bryant's Federalist political views. The first edition quickly sold out — partly because of the publicity earned by the poet's young age — and a second, expanded edition, which included Bryant's translation of classical verse, was printed. The youth wrote little poetry while preparing to enter Williams College as a sophomore, but upon leaving Williams after a single year and then beginning to read law, he regenerated his passion for poetry through encounter with the English pre-Romantics and, particularly, William Wordsworth. Poetry Although "Thanatopsis", his most famous poem, has been said to date from 1811, it is more likely that Bryant began its composition in 1813, or even later[citation needed]. What is known about its publication is that his father took some pages of verse from his son's desk and submitted them, along with his own work, to the North American Review in 1817. The editor of the Review, Ed [mehr]

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Ummed Singh A Little Hatred

Enemy in friend or neighbour

Philosophie
Englisch
4214 Wörter
Keine Altersempfehlung
92
0

Kunwar Narayan writes in one of his diaries, it is not necessary that we see our time standing in our own time, we can see it from some predictable point of future or even from the past. To read and capture them is to get acquainted with the country of the Indian mind of the last century, where there are also paved roads of the mysteries of the Upanishadic life, and by walking on those paths also develops the sense of appraisal of one's time. Poem ( song ) now I have a small houseand live in a big world ever i a very big house and lived in a small world from low walls makes a big difference no wallsSo the house becomes bigger than the world Get out of the angry and sad atmosphere for a while, Take a walk, check yourself a little, the reason will be found, Try to do any of your favorite work, think after calming down, reason, try to rectify the mistake, if the mistake is yours, if it is someone else's mistake, then sorry, it will be very nice to see it. If someone insults you, then control your anger at that time as if you have won to climb a mountain, but at that time you will answer them, then the matter will go ahead and I will tell you what to do at that time, read the points given below carefully. When someone insults you, stay calm and face the person who insults you and pretend as if you don't care. Now react as if the person in front is telling a joke not insulting you, keep a smile on your face, because of this the person who insults you will find himself strange. When you feel that now you have to go from there, then say this with a smile! It is done that there is something else left, the person in front will say yes. During that time you have to control your anger, keep in mind that if you react up, then the person in front will think that he has bowed you with his words. If you like our answer then please tell by commenting and yes don't forget to upvote. I did not understand these things of his at that time what he says, but now I understand that he is absolutely right.Anger acts as both a weakness and a strength in our life, it depends on us how we use it. Suppose you have bitter gourd, gourd vegetable in your food, you get nausea on seeing it. Is it the fault of bitter gourd or yours?'The root cause of your anger is not that thing or person, but you' - if you realize this fact, then you will understand how foolish it is to be angry.You tell me, do you like people who want to rule over you? Or those who take you in their arms like a friend by putting their hands on their shoulders?Each place may have to work differently. But maintain the affection without missing your original nature which is affection. This eBook is a guide and serves as a fist guide. In addition, please get expert advise. Rohit Bhargav is a good philosopher worked under many Indian history writers. He used content in this book on his knowledge and some content taken from different newsletter & magazines. or you can write to ummedsingh7427@gmail.com for any query, we will happy to help you. Thank you, [mehr]

Stichwörter: Hate, Hatred, Enemy, Friend, Neighbour, Quarrel, Dispute, Ram vs Ravan, Krishna vs Kansh, India vs Pakistan, Israel vs Palestine, Dharma vs Adharma

2,49 US$

Original:Perugu.Ramakrishna Flemingo

Translation:Jagadhaatri

Lyrik und Poesie
Englisch
3399 Wörter
Keine Altersempfehlung
670
3

FLEMINGO..(lONG POEM ON MIGRATED BIRDS) Time is infinite Time is a canoe Time is a winged dove Time is desert silence Time is the rumble of the oceans Time is the showering rain droplet It is the tremor of the heart Time is the lingo of history Time is an eternal test A non stop journey is time A ceased path is time Time is life Time is a flow Time is death Time is the opportune right Time is a tide Time is the breath Time is invisible Time is tangible Time is a scene of beauty The breath of an atom is time The tune of an iota is time Time is the play of life and death Time is the envoy of peace and terror There is no shore that the time has not touched And no ray of light untouched by time Time is the manifestation of the ancient Brahman The modern interpretation of duty is time Time is earthly and heaven Time is eternal Time is the river of life Life is a journey In the stream of time! (2) Journey Is a feature of instability The flow A lively spirit Flower voyages Pollinated From flower to flower The bird travels As love From shore to shore As a lineage Procreation Is the maternal instinct And desire for procreation Is the essence of the expansion of the soul Copulation Is it only pertaining to the man alone? Justice in creation Flourishes in plural Many rain droplets do make a rain Umpteen leaves do make a tree Millions of cells do make one creation Loneliness is not the trait of the world Embossing fetus in the ovum The bird blows the warmth of breath The cosmic universe is Perceived in totality by the inner eye (3) Every move is a journey Every death is a journey Every birth is a voyage Flight is the winning spirit of the migrating birds The effort of the ocean of love Is to procreate As the oceans run With the feet of waves As the air flows In wavy winds As life continues With the unending breaths As the world rounds in Non stop news In wings and wings Do fly and arrive these birds The creatures with passion and patience Thousands of kilometers of restless journey To the destination afar In search of wonderlands A partly witness of the Irrepressible instinct The soaring birds flying Like hunks of the rainbow Like the seven colored sankranthi(pongal rangoli) The flowing sea of the bird flock Floats on the treasures of the blue oceans The jingling song of the migrating birds Is a travel A stopover A sojourn A libido All are the traces of the moving time…. (4) The bird is the Infinite freedom with sprouted wings The eyes filled with a fear And a shiver As the soldier of the border forces The bird is a being, all time alert Onlooker with a quest It is the bird that Smears a mosaic of colors To the ends of the wings And tips of the tails The bird is the one Which casts net and Catches hold of the Jet velocity And the splendor of winds In the moment of hunger It is the bird that Surgically operates the available food And feeds on it as a fork Welcoming a dawn The bird is the Wake up call To the society Crossing a cold night Slivering the foggy morn With its beak Flying fast with its legs apart Runs the bird in prey hunt Testing the air contaminated From the farthest branch Of a tall tree It is the bird that removes the pollution On a sunny afternoon On a choicest water meadow It is the bird that Jumps and thumps And somersaults Playing water khabaddi Fluttering the body Dries its wings Measuring the distance of thousands of miles It is the migrating bird That carries The history of the other side of the world To the culture this side And the race of that land To this generation here The bird is the flying goddess of passion A flying message of peace Completing the journeys By the twilight of dusk Gathering near the tree It is the bird that gets ready for a chorus concert It is the bird that reflects The mynahs of poesy Gandharvas (divine singers) of music And the doyens of music Hunger, sleep, love, and passion Are similar to all the living beings Between birth and death Birds too have relations They are not promiscuous Birds too have a social life They do not know social betrayal The bird that unfolds its broad wings of vast feels Seldom knows selfishness It does not contract with narrow mindedness To the lady bird That sits over in hatching With all balance and patience The snacks of Pulicot Brought tucked in the bags beneath its nose Is fed in pecks and perks by the male The bird is beyond jealousy and hatred To the villagers who saved it from Any one shooting a bullet The bird as a good Samaritan in ardent gratitude, Makes the land fertile with its drops Gifting a three times crop and leaves the land The bird must be a role model for the man..!! For sincerity and commitment And discipline. (5) Exodus is an unending journey Migration an age old fete When the hues of life’s backdrop change Exodus is a weapon When the clouds anger Making scarce a droplet of rain The village turns an exodus To the anna datha (farmer) The farmer’s life turns a coolie Exodus transports a generation Exodus changes the way of life At times migration in life Encircles as a whirl pool At times drowns as a typhoon It makes you travel out to the continents For the sake of the tiny belly There is no race and no religion The hunger’s language is universal It may sojourn over anywhere Will make you do anything Stretches its hand until the belly is filled From a dark continent On to the dais of light From an icy country To the warm place Builds the bridge of the seasons (6) The pelicans moving on the wings of time The flamingos that ram in the air car The Painted storks flown in like kites Fluttering on the Konkanai Sails of the waves are the black cranes As the ambassadors of many countries Have taken part in the international conference The nature is all over colorful messages of love All the festivals of love of the bird tourists Are happily celebrated by the youth On all the branches of the land are the happy resorts In whichever village lost is the eye It is the hustle of the moving colorful dreams Are the goods of the empires of Manmadha(god of love) The secrets of Mithuna rasi(Zodiac sign pertaining to love) The hundred puzzles of the colorful flying boats All over the Pulicot lake is the congregation of romantic heroes All over the sky of Pulicot are the airs of emotions Each bird is a hoisted flag of poesy The colorful parrot is a short poem of dreams The dark legged crane that has soiled its feet in the dirt of darkness Washes them in the blue Pulicot The myriad colored sea-parrot Dives into the waters as the water drawing pulley Alone a great sage Stands on single foot in penance When in the shades of waters narayani(heron) appears He chants the manthra of gutakayaswaha(i.e. to swallow it) Folding its wings to the sides of time Gudaswami(the paddy bird or pond heron) Takes thrice a dip in the Pulitheertham(name of a place) As if thousands of women Are stilled as a picture In the postures of classical Indian dances On the dais are the postures of the imitating flamingos The everlasting fight of the usurpers for the water treasure And for the enticing damsels As if the Nelapattu has blown the snake charm Every now and then they journey to the home Naughty kids being the waves, Floating are the winged boats The structure that has turned The Pralaya Kaveri(stormy Kaveri) Into pranaya Saveri(lovable Saveri(a raga)) In the radiant jugalbandi of the jalatharangini Is the passionate shower of dazzling ragas As soon as it dawns in Pulicot Spreading the colorful carpet Entwining the hues of spring and winter Flows as a soaring garden of blooms Watering the mouth of the awaiting sea. (7) The bird guests under the boundless skies Are the messiahs of universal brotherhood The romantic tales carried over by the great poets The Manmadhas(gods of love) who well knew the secrets of love Lovers they are, who have left their family and place With an ardent desire to beget off springs Though in the size of a seed, but vast are their hearts Their eyes are like lamps without wicks To spread light is their message To perceive life is their philosophy Life is a penance Life is radiance Life is a dawn Life is providence Life a tune of the creation From generation to generation pervades life From earth to heaven is the debate of puranas Life is an eternal stream of time! The birds are the flags hoisted by the King of time!! (8) There – On each branch is a concert In each nestle, a sonata Every tree a cluster of myriad hues A bird fete all over the lands Chirps and tickles Coos and laughs Many a confluences of umpteen springs of ragas Many a sum of joy With the exciting songs of the round eyed ones The climate is delighted In the highways of power filled skies A colorful dream unfolds The milky-way Turns a rosy hued stream In the time of saran navarathri Saphari Theerdham(name of a place) Relaxes in the conference of arts The banjara(wagabond) birds that have come Croon the songs of coos They spread out the treasure troves of love Onto the nest of the worlds To the noises of the love making birds All the stars peer down to the earth The ways of love of the romantic hearts Breathe out the passions in loneliness Stretching his hands of rays, sun of the dawn Applies henna in stealth Unfolding the doors of their hearts The blooms color themselves in serenity Color is the manifestation of spirit of life! The lands that were not greeted till the day before Today are, the life of the birds summit The trees that were faded till the day before Are today the strings played veenas Thousands of flute songs of Krishna Now the morns of Nelapattu Are the wavy streams of sweet melodies Now the evenings of Nelapattu Are the springs of songs of the elixir of love A pelican tucks in its lover Into the nestle of its wings A painted stork nearing it Woos its beloved with its long snout The sabari crane in the tune of passion Loses himself to the sweet song of its lady love Turning its body into breath the wood pecker Smears all over the body of its heart throb Not only the floods of milky bosoms But the ardor of sperm too flows In the great yagna of the Santhana Lakshmi(the goddess of children) Millions of lives are dawned (9) Not only the Devakakulu But all the birds are the ancient kith and kin! All our visiting birds are Manvanthara purandharas!(the age old lords of Heaven) We assume the Bulbul to be an alien When have we seen it as a peace monger? We feel the blind crane as the evil spirit Have we ever counted it as the Charioteer of virtue? Though the python is black in color It is as good hearted as the dark lord (Lord Krishna) All the beautiful dances of the red breast are The festoons of light of the happy family ways In the life rituals of the branches Pour in the fuel of lively smiles In the bright journey of procreation, both the branches Ignite the lights of new radiances Numerous tales of love, umpteen loves Each branch is the cottage of Vathsayana(the author of Kama Sutra) Every nestle is a sound of music No creation, no rains, no destruction No progress of the world is possible without the family life Children are to the man, seeds of time And the ovum is the radiance of dynamism for the bird From the seed the tree and from the tree the seed Is the first step to the world’s progress To the yagna(ritual sacrifice) of the migrating birds The flourishing Kadapa tree is the dais The tree is the green flag hoisted by the nature The tree is the comfort to the exhausted mankind To the alien birds that crossed the oceans The tree is the temple of conjugal bliss To the on spreading bird dynasties The tree is the temple of the secret of creation (10) Time is always an open book All are open truths that are snuggled into it Time is a teacher that seldom taught anything to anyone Time is the emissary that tells every one everything The foreign birds are the prophets of yoga of life They are the bosom friends that do not know the hatreds of the borders They are the alien yogis that do not have lust They are the enlightened ones that have seen the secret of the kala chakra(the cycle of time) Greets in the universal lingo, and ecstasies They are well cultured ones that conduct unity camps Holy souls overflow in joy To the emigrant flock with the touch of this land In the lush green shade Appear the dreams of morrow’s generation That’s why I say bird is the indication of time It is the symphony of the past, present and future The holy fire of confluence is the endorsement of trikala tantra Bird loves a bird Soul copulates with the soul Nelapattu is the dais of the perseverance of Poundarika Nelapattu is the indication of age old yagas The sowing of seeds of life from generations Nature is the balancing measure here It is here that nature takes another breath And here the world gives birth to another creation This little land after crossing over the oceans Is a living home for a race It is a pillow of the joys and sorrows Where the dharma of Buddha has excelled It is the stage of dance for the danseuse Rathi Devi(wife of kamadeva, the lord of love) That knew the mystic tune or the tune of mysticism It’s the moment that seeks the justification of the soul Having understood the inevitability of the mortal body Forgetting the body pleasure, and pleasure of the body Manmadha becomes a passionate yogi here It’s the nature that fulfils it’s duty on this land Turning to be a man, it furthers the creation Congregation of birds that have no disparities An egalitarian equality The fragrance of passion to the ones who open eyes And to the eyes closed sages The liberation of the soul Time, changing colors as seasons For a minute, ecstasies as birds It’s here that begins an end To the time infinite The foundation is laid here From the end to the endless (11) Flamingo offers with love to its lady The bedisa(silver fish) that it brings with its nose How much it longs for its lover When it succeeds to fly in whirls Catching the vanjaram(the scomber or the seer -fish )in the net of its nose Fluttering its wings dreams of off springs Who must have taught so many tunes to these birds? How was such passion adorned to these round eyed ones? Which bird was that have shown way to this place? That results every year in this compulsory family fair The ecstasy of life in the foreyard of Nelapattu Wings sprout to the nestlings The tiny fish school, become their food grains Pulicot is the field of water crop The tiny shrimp is the fruit of the crop Fluttering its wings the blue flamingo Hounds the snake fish The crooked nose lakumuki(king fisher) bird Chase the mattagidasa(the sucking fish, called the Echeneis)) Having shattered the line of the girasa(short) fish The baby paraja(Rasica) crow feels joyous The sky seems congested To the nestlings that got wings The blue lake is the food store To the red breast that has learnt to fly In the battle for food To the shouts of hunger and The dance of the Bharatha(Titlark or Pippit called in Dakhini Chendul)) bird Searching for prey Bulbul is the food Hunger is the age old enemy to all the living beings To gratify hunger is peace for any being Even the gods of heaven savor elixir in hunger When big fish is swallowing the small ones Why is it wrong if birds feed on fish? As if the rainbows had bathed As the Apsaras (divine courtesans of the heaven)cast their charms Festival of colors on the waves of Pulicot A divine game of the baby sparrows The water meadow filled with children Looks like a conference of joy and gay In the eyes of the bird watchers Reflects a kaleidoscope of colors From Nelapattu to Pulicot This bird festival Flows like a stream of water colors The celebration reaches the skies Neither trap nor net, and no hook Beak is the mere weapon The battle of hunger seldom stops Even in tides and in the nets of waves and typhoons All the expertise lies in hunting However a great jalapushpam(fish) The test is to catch the prey with its beak Is the sanguine trait shared Pulicot is the resort for a change of climate For the progress of the breed the trunks of Nelapattu are the residencies The Pralaya Kaveri is now the grace f love Every nestling born here is morrow’s bird The yester born narayana(the common heron) The water parrot that fed on this land Having breathed his first in the nest of this tree Can the alien Sabari ever forget? The colorful dreams of the pelicans The blooms of hope of their beautiful nights The cool breeze and the odor of the soil of Nelapattu Can the red breast ever lose memory of this honeymoon? The ecology of India echoed with The divine violin notes of gratitude The land is infinite and sky vast As the flow of time the ocean too is boundless The one who called these foreign birds as aliens The one who made immigration as inheritance If he goes from this village Begets a child in that great nation Earns a green card and citizenship But how can the egg laid here be an alien? Can the way of pariga(the rose colored Starling or theCholam bird. Pastor roseus) brought up in the Pralaya Kaveri be changed? This soil is remembered by every bird And hence every year it turns up to its motherland! (12) The scene of the skies blooming in myriad colors On the branches of the rubber trees is The sweet home of the flamingo and pelican Reflects the groping families of man In the spreading apartment culture In the shades of the hoods of the waters of Pralaya Kaveri Joyously bathes the Siberia Forgetting the tiresomeness of thousands of miles As the armed forces of navy The meghmalhar(a raga that invokes rain God) song of the bird How many brushes of the artist must have bowed in reverence? To this sea parrot Umpteen canvases must have lost their faces In the symphony of the chirps of love birds is The still picture of the happy NRI doves The music of sarigama (the seven music notes)that teaches the soaring music to the heart At least once in a year…… The passion for the embrace of the motherland The longing to kiss the soil of birth The son of the soil who lost his inner face Forgetting the roots of life in the battle Having turned into a machine At least …now Have to transmigrate into the bird! Conclusion All the souls become one The cosmic treasures become divine souls In the confluence of the water treasures of India Taking a holy dip turn to be the holy souls What may be the divinity of the migrating birds They always worship Narayana in waters. Telugu original: Perugu Ramakrishna Eng trans: Jagaddhatri [mehr]

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