eBooks „sweet“
Es wurden 656 eBooks für den Suchbegriff „sweet“ gefunden.
Saniul Alom Sun
Queen Of My dream
- Drama
- Englisch
- 2267 Wörter
- Ab 12 Jahren
- 42
Ever if you are that - I will fulfill all our dreams together, if you are such - I will not hear everything, then you will be able to hear all our ways, then you have a warm touch on my hands, why do you think today is a stubborn world? Why today is the first love of love Tumibina unsaturated? That's a spring of a spring beside you and the breath of the love of the love of love - even today, if it is still rite in the trap in the end - at the beginning of all, you will lose again and I will lose again once in your belief that you will return again in your faith Once again, I will go to your sweet laughing flood that will be deleted, these memories may be deleted, maybe you will be satisfied with Satisfaction, the last scene of life in the eyes of life ... till you stop the diary and stop the diary. Many are written, but for whom it is going to be someone else today, someone else will write something about him today. It is not just something that it is the illiteracy of the heart of the heart of Abir's breakdown. Maybe it will be written about the new sort of poetry, or some of the love-makers who are involved in the same sheet where she will take his heavenly in the face of someone else ... to be around 2 pm. There is no sleeping in Abir. The real reason - Ammu could not go to 8 pm tonight in the euphoria tonight. And mental reasons - today is married to Anila. Abir did not get upset with the unrestricted pain of the head. The PC opened the laptop in front of the table. Nowadays, he often studies small with 'bypolar disorder'. It is not very profitable. All the words of the same type of words in Zajagaya are sitting on her fingers - "You have to live with this illness. It can be covered with medicines for a long time, but if the drug is released, the first first Abir's "life 'was afraid of reading. Can Anila be able to accept this reality by fighting one hand with the whole world? Waiting for this disease continuously waiting for a boy to be destroyed in a boy? The losing his father has been suffering throughout his life in the mother of his mother, what he wanted to increase the burden of the hardship with a sick boy's own shoulder? The nightmare was not at a moment that in a evening in the ridge of Dhanmondi Rizbie's shop, Anila's head of Abir's shoulder in the shoulder of Aadho light in a evening in a evening in the sectum, said in the shoulder of Abir's shoulder, "I loved you so much. I do not have any life fall like a dry leaf. To me, you are a son of Tukhar, who is a good boy, who heard the child's book, who heard the song written by the saints, I was fascinated by News. Daily printed in the stare, which I used to cut off each of the books I used to read the same text repeatedly after reading the book of Aarrat, "Yes, Anila belongs to himself. It was more likely to have the emotional kingdom more than reality. So the cruelty of life and the world could not understand. Or maybe the hands of people like Anilah was born in cruelty. Unusual stress is considered to be a big reason for this illness. Abir was the eldest son of the family, the first child of the parents. From his childhood, a man growing in the fear of father's fears. As far as the share of the affection, he was once buried and behind his father's duration chain. So he was a good student, so everyone could have hopes for the skyscraper surrounded by him. The expectation of when he has made him a prisoner man, may not even understand the people of his family. Abir's work worked for a long time. Over time, there arises to grow in the form of this illness. When Abir repeatedly did not take the study of the reciprocity in the University, he was not able to take a daughter of a poor character like Mili, when the whole of his friends had been poisoned, when someone was in the family, when he had no hope in the family, This is 8:00 pm drugs? -No-don't? There is no escape, so do not eat. What do you do -I do nothing. Only my baby will be sitting around all night. There is no problem in my wake, but Baboot will have to listen to music. I know that Babu will listen to music, but Babu's Kaoya Marca will break my father-in-law's sleep - my problem will be here ... and there was a surrender of Abir in front of the argument (???). Occasionally Abir was not afraid that if there was no uncovered, it might have been in bed in the bed of the hospital today. Besides, people of any house will not afford to tolerate vandalism every day. During the newborn test, the boy did not know when the boy did not know how to sit in the boy? And now this is a ridicule of Abir's lips in the word 'lifetime'. Ahnila has lost today. Today, after more than 3 months ago, when Abir Anila was standing in front of Fuller Road in Fuller Road, Satta stood 2 hours in the sun and came down to the house of Anila: "Go away from here. I can not take this relationship forward. I can not be able to give my mother to such a big thing "Abir did not say anything. Looking at the way of going to [mehr]
1,49 US$
Saniul Alom Sun
Zone Of Mafia
- Biografie/Autobiografie
- Englisch
- 4750 Wörter
- Ab 16 Jahren
- 17
- Are you new mamma (flying)
- Haha that bird. Let's play a little t20 mommy
- Which is Mama?
Everyone slapped him on the cheek. Seeing that they were having fun for so long, now everyone became silent
- Respect girls.
He grabbed the girl's hand and dragged her away. A girl was smoking a cigarette while sitting next to him
-No Cigarette Just Response (Cigarette snatched away)
The girl was looking at him with a smile. 5 more people ran beside the girl
- The boy is having a problem.
- Don't stand up and do whatever you want. What great courage he has. No one could look me in the eye and he snatched my cigarette and sang. Go. (Anger turns red)
Let's all go and catch up. Let's not know the identity till then
The girls in front of the gate were teased by Adnan and his team. Senior brother of varsity
He came a little farther and snatched the cigarette from the girl. The campus leader can't look anyone in the eye.
And the one who has done these things for so long is Mehrab.
He grabbed Meherab and brought him in front of Dibar
Meherab: How sweet I like it
Day: My feet. Break his arms and legs and I will explain.
Adnan: Leave him in our hands during the day and he will not be able to do it today
Dibah: What is he doing to you?
Adnan: I was slapped in front of everyone.
Day: Watt (surprised)
Shafi: Brother once said put him here
Meherab: Hahahahaha
Dibah: You know why you are laughing You've been doing so much since you were a newcomer.
Meherab: You have a good mind. That's what I want, so I love you (the hairs moved from the top of Dibar's face with his mouth).
Everyone at the varsity was shocked to hear about Meherab.
Jannat: You see how great courage he has during the day. Proposes to you
Dibah: My foot is his proposal. Beat him in such a way that no one thinks ten times before doing it next time.
Shafi jumped and hit 6 Meher picked it up and hit Shafi's chest with a stick. Shafi fell to the ground. Meherab left the girls and moved back
Meherab: Your anger is as beautiful as the truth. I really fell in love with you.
Adnan: You do
Meherab: If you don't want to lose your dignity, if you don't read it, then everyone will think from tiger to cat.
Tisha: This principal is coming. Let's go
Dibah: I will see you. Just get out.
Meherab: Wait, I'm coming.
Diba Ra left with Adnan. Everyone went to their class.
Meherab entered the class and everyone was looking at Meherab. Wondering how such an unsmart boy could have done so much. It's not good to see. The dress is bad too. How did you get to varsity?
Mehrab went and sat on the back bench. Sir came to the class. Good morning everyone. Sir started taking classes. If everyone in the class is attentive and Mehrab is looking out of the window.
Sir: Stand up this boy (in a serious voice)
Mehrab stood up
Sir: What is the name? It seems new to see why this condition of clothing
Meherab: Meherab. Yes new here. But no matter what the dress, the mind is very big.
Everyone in the class laughed out loud. Sir stepped back and swallowed.
Sir: Why do you come back and sit in front. And stay focused in class.
Almost everyone in the class was surprised. Didn't tell anyone to be silent, sir.
Mehrab sat down. Sir began to take classes. Kavya is looking at the outside very well
Meherab: Sir, it is not a black cherry tree
Everyone looked back at Meherab's hand and looked outside
Sir: Yes.
Meherab: If you allow me, I will go there for a while.
Sir: Go to him.
Mehrab got up and left
Sapphire: Look, we can't talk in fear in Sir's class. And this newcomer is feeling like the son of a minister. Sir, he didn't say anything.
Rosie: It looks like this will be the son of the minister again hahaha aha
Parvez: Is there any quality in it for which Sir is agreeing with him?
Sapphire: Let's play a game and see who he is.
Rosie: OK, start today
Parvez: Look at this tree. [mehr]
1,49 US$
Md Jahidul Islam, Robin it
Digital Marketing
Digital Marketing written by Md Jahidul Islam
- Drama
- Englisch
- 3334 Wörter
- Keine Altersempfehlung
- 39
It is ironic that I am living. I am thirsty and the blood in my veins has got thicker; it can hardly crawl to all of me. I am losing control over my body; it is playing dead here and there. Perhaps, my soul is angry at my physical being; my body, and it wishes to leave forthwith. Alas! I must have done pretty badly to gods that they had me sent here; in the family of consciously fear-breathing peasants. They breath little and brisk; for they have forgotten the very idea of abundance. They are afraid that the air might just deplete away. Oh, I reckon! Their souls have been enslaved; chained to self-inflicted humiliation and convinced of being a low cast reptile. Oh God, why have you sent me here; my soul is nobler. I surpass their peasantry, Oh God, you have sent me wrongly! Qasim was cursing everything that he had inherited; the list was not long though. He was a bright young boy, who was smarter than other children of his age. It was 12 years ago when Qasim was pinned down in this damp hut of the poor slum. He had always thought that he had descended into this mire from much nobler heavens. May he had done some wrong that displeased gods, at least it was what Qasim believed. The slum included hundreds of poorly built huts and tents erected with rags and sticks. The fireplaces and stoves put in open near their lowly abodes. It seemed as if the world was inhabited by the people of different times; all at once in manifestation. Each age preserved by eternity for the purpose of record and realization. Though, the slum was notorious in one way, for in it lived the nomads of mountainous terrains. The slum was a century old and it was a legend, that they had their souls were in charge; they would break their bodies but would never bear to be belittled. They were ill known for their arrogance and stubbornness But the time passed, the newer generations grew fond of the ideas of comfort, luxury, and leisure. Sooner, the body manipulated and distracted to the very artifacts that its souls had warned about. The bodily form grew stronger and the arrogance receded. They had become aware of the soft silk, a full stomach, and sweet fragrance. So, they sold in the bits of their soul for chunks of luxury. Their souls seem now rather enchained. The slum was now inflated by the half-blood opportunists; half-blood was from their ancestors. By evening, they will gather and celebrate the holy feast of awakening. They would be baptized by the holy wine, to sedate their moaning souls. This was the epidemic that had struck the entire slum; save one. The one hut that remained was of Mukhtar Khan’s own; the father of Qasim. Mukhtar Khan was a hardworking man who would toil hard to get some bread with butter. He was a strong-headed man who would prefer to pet his soul rather than his body. But he had troubles at home; he could not bear to look at the hungry faces that he was responsible to feed. He carried it along while he went to work and more often had returned with the same burden; with added interest. Qasim, on the other hand, was still wondering why his father was such an arrogant man. He either does not find a job or loses it in a week or two; what a looser he had made of himself. Qasim could notice his neighborhood prospering and that the other children would buy clothes every summer, how lucky of them he would think. Qasim was upset and he would pity his fate and curse those who brought him into this mess. He always believed that his parents deserved it. One day, Mukhtar Khan returned home with the burden of unanswered responsibilities. He had not found any labor for wages, since past three days. The family had been waiting for some food since last night. He looked at the stove, which was desolated and seemed waiting to be lit for ages. Mukhtar Khan entered the hut and sat down in one corner and started weeping. Ghazala, Qasim’s mother, knew what had happened. She went over to her husband and comforted him. She would need to do it often with her empty stomach. She was indeed a strong lady who never complained. No one knew what dreams she had but the look in her eyes could possibly observe the very glare that could be seen over the sea when the sun is shining bright. Qasim, who was watching all this, angrily ran out of the hut. He was sobbing miserably and cursing everything that he knew existed. Back in the hut, Mukhtar Khan had started crying loudly. He complained to gods in between the sobs and said; “How god, how must I stand tall if you drag the very land that I step upon. Forgive me, for I can bear it no more. I am thirsty and my blood is getting thicker, it hardly crawls to all of me. Oh God, help me for I can not resist selling my honor for a loaf of bread and some wine to keep my blood running.” Ghazala was comforting him while a tear or two dropped down his cheeks which she immediately wiped off. She did not wish to add on to the poor man’s plight. Mukhtar Khan after a while of sobbing and crying said; “perhaps, I [mehr]
Stichwörter: Digital Marketing, Digital Marketing written by Md Jahidul Islam
0,99 US$
Isioma Jemimah Okonicha
1001 Stories Of Greatness, Series 2
- Belletristik
- Englisch
- 5944 Wörter
- Ab 16 Jahren
- 44
1001 stories of Greatness are short fictional stories about how to tap into your potential by first looking within you to discover your hidden advantage and strength. Discovering who you can become starts with first accepting to look inward. If you do not look inward, how do you know your genius?
These stories give pointers to how to live fulfilled and free lives. And they are not meant for a selected few, but rather everyone of any age who has become responsible for their decisions.
To those who have lost time doing nothing significant and staying unfulfilled, I'm glad to tell you that time lost can be regained as long as you do not quit!
And for those who are just starting out in life, it is important to let you know that every decision you make will determine whether you truly live or merely exist. So make decisions wisely.
1001 stories of greatness contain wisdom that you need on your journey, especially for the times when every road seems blocked. You can navigate your well as long as you have the right information and knowledge.
Chapter 1 begins:
As the sun began to set over the small town, the group of friends gathered around the table on the patio, ready to unwind after a long day. They had planned a laid-back evening, with good food and even better drinks to share.
The first round of drinks was a round of refreshing cocktails, made with crisp white rum, tangy lime juice, and a splash of sweet simple syrup. As they sipped on their drinks, the friends chatted and laughed, catching up on everything that had happened since they last saw each other.
Next, they decided to switch things up with a round of rich, smooth red wines. Each of them chose a different bottle, eager to try something new and share their favorites with the group. As they sipped and savored the complex flavors of the wine, the conversation turned to more serious topics, as they delved into discussions about their careers, relationships, and the future.
As the night went on, the group consisting of young boys and girls in their teens, decided to switch to something a little stronger. They brought out a selection of fine whiskies, from smooth, honeyed single malts to bold, peaty blends. They poured themselves generous glasses and sat back, sipping slowly as they talked and listened to music.
As the night began to wind down, the group decided to end their evening with a round of after-dinner drinks. They brought out a tray of cordials and liqueurs, including rich, creamy Kahlua, sharp, bittersweet Campari, and smooth, velvety Bailey's. They mixed and matched, creating unique, layered cocktails that perfectly capped off their evening.
As they finished their drinks and said their goodbyes, the friends all agreed that it had been a perfect evening, filled with good company, delicious food, and a wide variety of delicious drinks. They made plans to do it all again soon, already looking forward to their next gathering and the new drinks they would discover and share.
But among the group was Mira, silent and lost in her thoughts, she had always been a bright, curious child, full of energy and enthusiasm for life. But as she grew older, her life became increasingly troubled and abusive.
Her father was an alcoholic and a drug addict, who was prone to violent outbursts and abuse. He would lash out at Mira and her mother whenever he was in one of his drunken rages, leaving them both bruised and battered.
Mira's mother, exhausted and beaten down by years of abuse, was unable to protect her daughter from her father's wrath. She tried her best to shield Mira from the worst of it, but there was only so much she could do.
As a result, Mira grew up feeling scared, vulnerable, and alone. She struggled with low self-esteem and a deep sense of worthlessness, believing that she was somehow to blame for her father's behavior.
As she entered her teenage years, Mira began to act out, seeking attention and validation from anyone who would give it to her. She became rebellious and wild, getting into trouble at school and with the law.
Her mother, desperate to get her daughter back on track, sent her to live with her aunt and uncle in a small town on the other side of the country. Mira was resistant at first, but eventually came to see the move as an opportunity to start fresh and leave her troubled past behind.
[mehr]
1,49 US$
joann harris
FEAR OF THE BEAST
A DAY OF RECKONING
- Horror
- Englisch
- 291 Wörter
- Ab 18 Jahren
- 66
- 3
The town of Wheatfield no longer exists. Very little of the northeastern part of Fork County exists, except in the memories of those who may have once lived there and were fortunate enough to be gone when the great fireball struck, searing the land for miles. Scientists were stunned by the suddeness of the huge fireball, fir it seemed to materalized out of the heavens, traveling at such a tremendous speed, it was almost beyond calculation. "Where had it come from?" the scientists were asked by a stunned population. "From straight out of the sun," was the reply. "You could not have predicted it?"No.' Why?" The scientists hedged that question, for many of them were sworn avowed atheists. Finally, one man from an observatory in Washington who was not an unbeliever did reply, although not to the satisfaction of all of his colleagues. His reply brought laughter from more than a few of his fellow scientists.
How does one predict when the hand of God will fall, and how hard the blow will be? If indeed it had been as the scientists said, the hand of God, it had been a mighty slap from him. By the time various spies in the skies satellites, picked up on the cannoading mass of fiery destruction, it was already on top of the satellites, going through them, and burning them before they could be photographed, more than a one second shot at best, and transmit that to earth. Those pictures that did make it back to earth were immediately ordered to be seized by a presidential order.
Some said it was shaped like a Star of David. Others said it looked like an artist's conception of God's face; striking resemblance. The president told the scientists to shut their damn mouths, too, or faced the prospects of never receiving another dime of government money for anything. But many people witnessed the strange blue lights that preceded the crash of the whatever the hell it was, and they asked about those lights. But suddenly all were quiet about the mighty ball of fire, except for speculation. That soon began to fade as the news pushed the holocaust out of the headlines.
Only the insurance companies were left to ponder over the crash and dole out large sums of money to the relatives of those who had been killed. An astronomer in California thought he knew what had happened but he kept his mouth shut not out of any fear of the government, but because he felt it was the right thing to do. One investigative fellow did put some rather interesting and curious events together after a bit of prowling. But since he was a career army reservist and did not wish to spend his summer obligations to Uncle Sam cleaning up gooney bird shit on Guam , he kept his mouth shut.
"Someday, maybe he will write a book about it, and maybe by them he would believe it himself and be assured of the protection of the Dali Lama in some cave in Tibet.
What he had pieced together was that almost at the precise moment of fiery impact with earth, a series of fires leveled a huge man that was seen leaving earth, moving toward the heavens traveling at tremendous speed. No one knew what that thing was or if they did, they weren't saying, and there were some people who still remained unaccounted for after the fire at the mansion.
One of them was a young man by the name of Alex Balloon who was a minister in Wheatfield who had died under very mysterious circumstances back in "52" when another disaster had befallen the tragedy-ridden community, butt the investigative reporter wisely closed his journal on both disasters for a time.
It had been adnormally hot for this late in the season. By this time in the eastern part of Nebraska there was usually a lash of winter's approach in the air, a bit that brought color to the cheeks of pedestrains urgently but softly speaking of the harsh winter just ahead.
But the winds that blew across the plains and rolling sands hills had a torrid touch and brought a sudden surliness to the people of this sparsely populated county, turning most tempers raw and confusing a few as to why. The man knew why.
The few would learn too late. And out in the badlands some miles from Wheatfield , inside a fenced-in area where horror sprang to life back in the late 50's something stirred. A creature cautiously stuck its head out of the hidden cave and looked around, viewing its surrounding through evil, red eyes. The beast had felt the hot fingers of the wind pushing through the cave entrance as a probing hand might do, signaling those which serve another master that it was time.
The Dark One was near. The wind grew in strength and heat the beast snarling in reply. The manlike creature rose from its sentry position to crawl out of the filthy hole, rising to stand like human bits of dust and twigs and blowing sand striking its hairy body.
But to the beast it was a signal of love, a gesture of welcome. The beast roared its breath foul. It held its contempt for that God who occupies a more lofty position than the master of the beast.
For the creature knew but one god: the Prince of Darkness, the Lord of the Flies, Ruler of all that is Evil.
From behind the sentry came a guttural sound as other beasts rose from their long sleep, surly and hungry . They craved meat and the sweet taste of blood, but the sentry again tested the wind as the wind spoke its reply.
The sentry held up one warning paw to those below, holding them at bay. He growled and the others drew back into the darkness of the evil smelling hole in the earth. They knew they must obey the master. Thee growling sentry told them to wait the master will tell us when we may move. Be patient for you have waited more than twenty years. Wait." [mehr]
Kostenlos
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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