Indian Poetry

Taj Mahal
Sahir Ludhianvi (translated by Mustansir Dalvi)
1. Who could be speaking in the poem?
For you, my love, the Taj 2. What is the prevailing emotion revealed by the
may well be the quintessence lines of the poem?
of ardour; while full well 3. What does the Taj Mahal symbolize as implied by
may you regard the persona?
this exquisite vale. Even so, 4. How will you explain the repetition of the line "let
dear one, let us meet us meet someplace else? What is the possible
someplace else. purpose of having such line?
5. What is the central message of the poem?
What worth, these lowly ones,
6. What was the best thing that you did for the one
loitering in the halls of the lords,
you love?
where on every path lie etched
remains of pomp and glory?
What worth then, the passing
of lovelorn souls?

My love, behind the veils

of love's proud proclamations,
did you see the signs
of imperious grandeur?
You, who revel
in mausoleums of dead kings,
did you not heed the dark hovels
that fostered us?

Beyond count are those, in this world

who have lived and loved.
Could anyone deny the
truth of their passions?
But they, like us, stay destitute,
without the means
to erect monuments to their love.

These edifices, these tombs,

these battlements, these forts,
haughty relics
of the conceit of emperors,
are left behind like resilient creepers
on the face of the world, seeped in the blood
of our forefathers.

My love, those artful hands

who created this beauty
would have lived
and loved too; but their lovers
are long gone, nameless,
without a trace.
To this day, no one has lit
a candle in their memory.

The lush gardens and palaces,

the Yamuna's edge;
the exquisitely carved portals,
the arches and niches,
the handiwork of the one e
mperor who, buttress'd by infinite wealth
has mocked our very love,
our impoverish'd, destitute love.

Even so, my love,

let us meet
someplace else.
Chinese Poetry
White Sun and Bright Moon
Li Po

White sun and bright moon

run their course day and night.
How could we, humble mortals,
Live on leisurely on this world?
I learn that in the sea
There is fairly Peng-la hill
Where Angels often climb over
To pick green leaves of the jade tree,
Which, once being eaten, make their heads too dark
And they live in eternal youth.
I'll go there, I'll go there to live and die in fairyland.

Understanding the Text

1. How will you describe the persona of the poem?
2. What do the first two lines suggest as an idea?
3. What does the persona desire as revealed by the text?
4. What issues or ideas can be perceived from the text?
5. What sensory image was evidently used?

Love after Love

Derek Walcott

The time will come When, with elation

You will greet yourself arriving
At your own door, in your own mirror
And each will smile at the other's welcome,

And say, sit here. Eat.

You will love again the stranger who was yourself.
Give wine. Give bread.
Give back your heart
To itself, to the stranger who has loved you

All your life, whom you ignored

For another, who knows you by heart?
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,

The photographs, the desperate notes,

Peel your own image from the mirror.
Sit. Feast on your life.

Understanding the Text

1. Why is the poem entitled "Love after Love"?
2. Who do you think is the persona in the poem?
3. What significant idea does the poem attempt to discuss?
4. How will you interpret the meaning of every line in the poem?
5. Can think of a song having the same meaning as with this poem? Cite examples you and provide a brief explanation.
The Lion Makers
(A tale from Panchatantra in India)

In a certain town were four Brahmans who lived in friendship. Three of them had reached the shore of all scholarship but
lacked sense. The other found scholarship distasteful; he had hing but sense.

One day they met for consultation. "What is the use of attainments," said they, "If one does not vel win the favor of kings,
and acquire money? Whatever we do, let us all travel."
But when they had gone a little way, the eldest of them said: "One of us, the fourth, is a dullard, ving nothing but sense.
Now nobody gains the favorable attention of kings by simple sense thout a scholarship. Therefore, we will not share our
earnings with him. Let him turn back and go home."
Then the second said: "My intelligent friend, you lack scholarship. Please go home." But the third wid: "No, no. This is no
way to behave. For we have played together since we were little boys. Come along, my noble friend. You shall have a share
of the money we earn.

With this agreement, they continued their journey, and in a forest they found the bones of a dead on. Thereupon one of
them said: "A good opportunity to test the ripeness of our scholarship. Here lies some kind of creature, dead. Let us bring it
to life by means of the scholarship we have bonestly won."

Then the first said: "I know how to assemble the skeleton." The second said: "I can supply skin, fish, and blood." The third
said: "I can give it life." So the first assembled the skeleton, the second provided skin, flesh, and blood. But while the third
was intent on giving the breath of life, the of sense advised against it, remarking: "This is a lion. If you bring him to life, he
will kill very one of us."

"You simpleton!" said the other, "it is not I who will reduce scholarship to a nullity." "In that case," came the reply, "wait a
moment, while I climb this convenient tree."

When this had been done, the lion was brought to life, rose up, and killed all three. But the man of sense, after the lion had
gone elsewhere, climbed down and went home.

And that is why I say:

"Scholarship is less than sense;
Therefore, seek intelligence:
Senseless scholars in their pride
Made a lion; then they died."

When I Was One-and-Twenty

A. E. Housman

When I was one-and-twenty

I heard a wise man say,
"Give crowns and pounds and guineas
But not your heart away;
Give pearls away and rubies
But keep your fancy free."
But I was one-and-twenty,
No use to talk to me.

When I was one-and-twenty

I heard him say again,
"The heart out of the bosom
Was never given in vain;
Tis paid with sighs a plenty
And sold for endless rue.
And I am two-and-twenty,
And oh, 'tis true, 'tis true.

Understanding the Text

1. What situation is encountered by the persona as revealed by the poem?
2. What advice from the wise man is given to the persona?
3. What was the initial reaction of the persona towards the advice of the wise man?
4. What is the prevailing emotion and tone of the poem?
5. What is the realization of the persona?
6. How will you explain the meaning that the poem attempts to discuss?
Japanese Poetry

Every Single Thing

-Saigyo

"Every single thing changes and is changing

always in this world.
Yet with the same light the moon goes on shining."

Understanding the Text

1. Who be the persona in the poem?
2. Do you agree with the idea that every single thing instances that justify your contention.
3. What do the last two lines suggest as an idea?

Haiku is Japan's ancient form of poetry. Also, it is considered as the most important of Japan to world poetry. Mainly, it
covers human experiences and nature as its subjects. It contains 17 syllables shared between three lines, arranged in a
pattern of 5-7-5. Below are some examples of Haikus written by famous writers:

No one travels My life, -

Along this way but I, How much more of it remains?
This autumn evening. The night is brief.
- Matsuo Bashō -Masaoka Shiki

Understanding the Text

1. What subjects are considered in the haikus presented above?
2. What significant truth about life is revealed by these haikus?
3. How will you interpret the symbolisms used in these texts?

The Washwoman
Isaac Bashevis Singer

She was a small woman, old and wrinkled. When she started washing for us, she was already past seventy. Most Jewish v
women of her age were sickly and weak. All the old women in our street had bent backs and leaned on sticks when they
walked. But this washwoman, small and thin as she was, possessed a strength that came from generations of peasant
forebears. Mother would count out to her a bundle of laundry that had accumulated over several weeks. She would then lift
the bundle, put it on her narrow shoulders, and carry it the long way

She would bring the laundry back about two weeks later. My mother had never been so pleased with any washwoman. Yet
she charged no more than the others. She was a real find. Mother always had her money ready, because it was too far for
the old woman to come a second time.

Laundering was not easy in those days. The old woman had no running water where she lived but had to bring in the water
from a pump. And the drying! It could not be done outside because thieves would steal the laundry. So it had to be carried
up to the attic and hung on clotheslines. Only God knows what the old woman had to endure each time she did a wash!

She could have begged at the church door or entered a home for the penniless and aged. But there was in her a certain
pride and love of labor with which many members of the labor force have been blessed. The old woman did not want to
become a burden, and so she bore her burden.

The woman had a son who was rich. He was ashamed of his mother, and never came to see her. Nor did he ever give her
money. The old woman told this without bitterness. When the son got married, the wedding took place in a church. The son
had not invited the old mother to his wedding, but she went to the church anyway and waited at the steps to see her son
lead the bride to the altar.

One day the washwoman, now nearly eighty years old, came to our house. A good deal of herself, as well as some bread.
The old woman sat on a kitchen chair trembling and shaking laundry had accumulated during the past weeks. Mother gave
her a pot of tea to warm and warmed her hands against the teapot. Her fingernails were strangely white. These hands but
beyond the limits of one's power. It was sad to watch the old woman stagger out with spoke of the stubbornness of
mankind, of the will to work not only as one's strength permits the big buddle and disappear. Usually, the woman brought
back the wash after two or, at the most, three weeks. But three weeks passed, then four and five, and nothing was heard of
the old woman.
For us, the washwoman's absence was a catastrophe. We needed the laundry. We did not even know the woman's address.
It seemed certain that she collapsed, died. Mother declared she had had a premonition that we would never see our things
again. We mourned, both for the laundry and for the old woman who had grown close to us through the years she had
served us so faithfully.

More than two months passed. One evening, while Mother was sitting near the lamp mending a shirt, the door opened and
a small puff of steam, followed by a huge bundle, entered. Under the bundle tottered the old woman, her face as white as a
linen sheet. Mother uttered a half-choked cry, as though a corpse had entered the room. I ran toward the old woman and
helped her unload her bundle. She was even thinner now, more bent. She could not utter a clear word, but mumbled
something with her sunken mouth and pale lips.

After the old woman had recovered somewhat, she told us that she had been ill, very ill. In fact, she had been so sick that
someone had called a doctor, and the doctor had sent for a priest. Someone had informed the son, and he had contributed
money for a coffin. But God had not yet wanted to take this poor soul to Himself. She began to feel better, she became well,
and as soon as she was able to stand on her feet once more, she resumed her washing Not just ours, but the wash of
several other families too.

"I could not rest easy in m bed because of the wash," the old woman explained. "The wash would not le me die."

"With the help of God you will live to be a hundred and twenty," said my mother.

"God forbid! What good would such a long life be? The work becomes harder and harder... my strength is leaving me... I do
not want to be a burden on any one!" The old woman muttered, crossed herself, and raised her eyes toward heaven. After
getting paid, she left, promising to return in a few weeks for a new load of wash.

But she never came back. The wash she had returned was her last effort on this earth. She had been driven by a strong will
to return the property to its owners, to fulfill the task she had undertaken.

Richard Cory
Edwin Arlington Robinson

Whenever Richard Cory went down town,

We people in the pavement looked at him;
He was gentleman from sole to crown,
Clean favored and imperially slim.

And he was always quietly arrayed,

And he was always human when he talked;
But still he fluttered pulses when he said,
"Good morning," and he glittered when he walked.

And he was rich-yes, richer than a king,

And admirably schooled in every grace;
In fine, we thought that he was everything
To make us wish that we were in his place.

So on we worked and waited for the light

And went without meat, and cursed the bread;
And Richard Cory, one warm summer night,
Went home and put a bullet through his head.

Understanding the Text

1. How will you describe the persona of the poem? What clues from the poem refer to the persona?
2. What impressions about Richard Cory are expressed by the persona of the poem?
3. How does the persona feel about Richard Cory as revealed by the last line of the third stanza?
4. What happened to Richard Cory as stated in the last line of the fourth stanza? What could be the possible reasons for
this?
5. What significant idea does the poem attempt to convey?