Poem
Udaya Narayana Singh
Verbum Sapienti, To Damayanti
By the riverbanklie many men
limbless
splayed;
weak mean who have only
sedge and leaves for cover.
On the Sisal
the serpent swings.
“Damayanti, Damayanti,”
the forest shudders.
Through the thicket
the Sun peeps with caution.
His ray pierces Hiranya’s body
and reveals his thirty-three faces –
not one of them resplendent.
Trees often counsel –
Go this way,
Turn here,
Watch out!
Damayanti, Damayanti,
do not cross the forest!
In the darkness here
pimps wait.
Damayanti,
do not cross Time!
Naladev hides there.
The forest has now known
the springs of poetry,
and the barbaric history
of their levelling.
How city trees have forgotten
their own language!
Damayanti, do not trust men!
They will ensnare you
in stories,
riddles,
rumours.
Do not cross the forest.
Else, the forest
will write its first poem on you.
10 January, 1980
© Translation: 2006, Udaya Narayana Singh with Rizio Yohannan Raj
From: Second Person Singular
Publisher: Katha, New Delhi, 2006
Damayanti: a character in Hindu mythology, wife of Nala, whose story of romance and adventure is told in the Mahabharata. When the happily married couple are exiled from their kingdom (after Nala loses a game of dice), a twist of fate leaves Damayanti alone to fend for herself in the jungle.
From: Second Person Singular
Publisher: Katha, New Delhi, 2006
VERBUM SAPIENTI, TO DAMAYANTI
© 2005, Udaya Narayana Singh
From: Madhyampurush Ekvachan
Publisher: Vani Prakashan, New Delhi
From: Madhyampurush Ekvachan
Publisher: Vani Prakashan, New Delhi
Poems
Poems of Udaya Narayana Singh
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Verbum Sapienti, To Damayanti
By the riverbanklie many men
limbless
splayed;
weak mean who have only
sedge and leaves for cover.
On the Sisal
the serpent swings.
“Damayanti, Damayanti,”
the forest shudders.
Through the thicket
the Sun peeps with caution.
His ray pierces Hiranya’s body
and reveals his thirty-three faces –
not one of them resplendent.
Trees often counsel –
Go this way,
Turn here,
Watch out!
Damayanti, Damayanti,
do not cross the forest!
In the darkness here
pimps wait.
Damayanti,
do not cross Time!
Naladev hides there.
The forest has now known
the springs of poetry,
and the barbaric history
of their levelling.
How city trees have forgotten
their own language!
Damayanti, do not trust men!
They will ensnare you
in stories,
riddles,
rumours.
Do not cross the forest.
Else, the forest
will write its first poem on you.
10 January, 1980
© 2006, Udaya Narayana Singh with Rizio Yohannan Raj
From: Second Person Singular
Publisher: 2006, Katha, New Delhi
From: Second Person Singular
Publisher: 2006, Katha, New Delhi
Verbum Sapienti, To Damayanti
By the riverbanklie many men
limbless
splayed;
weak mean who have only
sedge and leaves for cover.
On the Sisal
the serpent swings.
“Damayanti, Damayanti,”
the forest shudders.
Through the thicket
the Sun peeps with caution.
His ray pierces Hiranya’s body
and reveals his thirty-three faces –
not one of them resplendent.
Trees often counsel –
Go this way,
Turn here,
Watch out!
Damayanti, Damayanti,
do not cross the forest!
In the darkness here
pimps wait.
Damayanti,
do not cross Time!
Naladev hides there.
The forest has now known
the springs of poetry,
and the barbaric history
of their levelling.
How city trees have forgotten
their own language!
Damayanti, do not trust men!
They will ensnare you
in stories,
riddles,
rumours.
Do not cross the forest.
Else, the forest
will write its first poem on you.
10 January, 1980
© 2006, Udaya Narayana Singh with Rizio Yohannan Raj
From: Second Person Singular
Publisher: 2006, Katha, New Delhi
From: Second Person Singular
Publisher: 2006, Katha, New Delhi
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