The Charge of the Light Brigade by Alfred Lord Tennyson

Half a league, half a league,
Half a league onward,
All in the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
‘Forward, the Light Brigade!
Charge for the guns!’ he said:
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
‘Forward, the Light Brigade!’
Was there a man dismay’d?
Not tho’ the soldier knew
Someone had blunder’d:
Their’s not to make reply,
Their’s not to reason why,
Their’s but to do and die:
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon in front of them
Volley’d and thunder’d;

Storm’d at with shot and shell,
Boldly they rode and well,
Into the jaws of Death,
Into the mouth of Hell
Rode the six hundred.
Flash’d all their sabres bare,
Flash’d as they turn’d in air
Sabring the gunners there,
Charging an army, while
All the world wonder’d:
Plunged in the battery-smoke
Right thro’ the line they broke;
Cossack and Russian
Reel’d from the sabre-stroke
Shatter’d and sunder’d.
Then they rode back, but not
Not the six hundred.
Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon behind them
Volley’d and thunder’d;
Storm’d at with shot and shell,
While horse and hero fell,
They that had fought so well
Came thro’ the jaws of Death,
Back from the mouth of Hell,
All that was left of them,
Left of six hundred.
When can their glory fade ?
O the wild charge they made!
All the world wonder’d.
Honour the charge they made!
Honour the Light Brigade,
Noble six hundred!

WENT TO A PARTY, MOM

I went to a party,
And remembered what you said.
You told me not to drink, Mom
So I had a sprite instead.
I felt proud of myself,
The way you said I would,
That I didn’t drink and drive,
Though some friends said I should.

I made a healthy choice,
And your advice to me was right,
The party finally ended,
And the kids drove out of sight.

I got into my car,
Sure to get home in one piece,
I never knew what was coming, Mom
Something I expected least.

Now I’m lying on the pavement,
And I hear the policeman say,
The kid that caused this wreck was drunk,
Mom, his voice seems far away.

My own blood’s all around me,
As I try hard not to cry.
I can hear the paramedic say,
This girl is going to die.

I’m sure the guy had no idea,
While he was flying high,
! Because he chose to drink and drive,
Now I would have to die.

So why do people do it, Mom
Knowing that it ruins lives?
And now the pain is cutting me,
Like a hundred stabbing knives.

Tell sister not to be afraid, Mom
Tell daddy to be brave,
And when I go to heaven,
Put “Daddy’s Girl” on my grave.
---------------------------------

---------------------------------

Someone should have taught him,
That it’s wrong to drink and drive.
Maybe if his parents had,
I’d still be alive.

My breath is getting shorter, Mom
I’m getting really scared.
These are my final moments,
And I’m so unprepared.

I wish that you could hold me Mom,
As I lie here and die.
I wish that I could say, “I love you, Mom!”
So I love you and good-bye.

If by Rudyard Kipling

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream — and not make dreams your master;
If you can think — and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you

Except the Will which says to them: “Hold on!”

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings — nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And — which is more — you’ll be a Man, my son!

Daffodils by William Wordsworth

I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o’er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
---------------------------------

---------------------------------

The waves beside them danced, but they
Out-did the sparkling leaves in glee;
A poet could not be but gay,
In such a jocund company!
I gazed and gazed but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;

And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

The Solitary Reaper by William Wordsworth

Behold her, single in the field,

Yon solitary Highland Lass!

Reaping and singing by herself;

Stop here, or gently pass!

Alone she cuts and binds the grain,

And sings a melancholy strain;

O listen! for the Vale profound

Is overflowing with the sound.

---------------------------------

---------------------------------

No Nightingale did ever chaunt

More welcome notes to weary bands

Of travellers in some shady haunt,

Among Arabian sands:

A voice so thrilling ne'er was heard

In spring-time from the Cuckoo-bird,

Breaking the silence of the seas

Among the farthest Hebrides.

Will no one tell me what she sings?—

Perhaps the plaintive numbers flow

For old, unhappy, far-off things,

And battles long ago:

Or is it some more humble lay,

Familiar matter of to-day?

Some natural sorrow, loss, or pain,

That has been, and may be again?

Whate'er the theme, the Maiden sang

As if her song could have no ending;

I saw her singing at her work,

And o'er the sickle bending;—

I listened, motionless and still;

And, as I mounted up the hill,

The music in my heart I bore,

Long after it was heard no more.

The Seven Ages of Man by William Shakespeare

Poem lyrics of Seven Ages Of Man by William Shakespeare.

All the world’s a stage,
And all the men and women merely players,
They have their exits and entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages. At first the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse’s arms.
Then, the whining schoolboy with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
---------------------------------

---------------------------------
Made to his mistress’ eyebrow. Then a soldier,
Full of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honour, sudden, and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation
Even in the cannon’s mouth. And then the justice
In fair round belly, with good capon lin’d,
With eyes severe, and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws, and modern instances,
And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts
Into the lean and slipper’d pantaloon,
With spectacles on nose, and pouch on side,
His youthful hose well sav’d, a world too wide,
For his shrunk shank, and his big manly voice,
Turning again towards childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness and mere oblivion,
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.

Autumn by Kalidasa

The autumn comes, a maiden fair
In slenderness and grace,
With nodding rice-stems in her hair
And lilies in her face.
In flowers of grasses she is clad;
And as she moves along,
Birds greet her with their cooing glad
Like bracelets’ tinkling song.

A diadem adorns the night
Of multitudinous stars;
Her silken robe is white moonlight,
Set free from cloudy bars;
And on her face (the radiant moon)
Bewitching smiles are shown:
She seems a slender maid, who soon
Will be a woman grown.
---------------------------------

---------------------------------

Over the rice-fields, laden plants
Are shivering to the breeze;
While in his brisk caresses dance
The blossomed-burdened trees;
He ruffles every lily-pond
Where blossoms kiss and part,
And stirs with lover’s fancies fond
The young man’s eager heart.

by: Kalidasa (c. 500)

This English translation of “Autumn” was composed by Arthur W. Ryder (1877-1938).

आन्टनी लैरीस

आन्टनी लैरीस त्याचं नाव. त्याच्या फ्रेंच नावाचा उच्चार करणंही महाकठीण. पण परवाच्या पॅरीस हल्ल्यात अतिरेक्याच्या गोळयांना त्याची बायको - हेलन बळी पडली आणि त्यानं आपल्या बायकोला जीवे मारणा-या अतिरेक्याला उद्देशून फेसबुकवर ही पोस्ट लिहिली, पेटत्या उरानं हे शब्द उच्चारणं तितकंच कठीण आहे.
लैरीस लिहतो –

तुला कळलंय का,
शुक्रवारी रात्री तू संपवलं आहेस,
एक आगळं वेगळं आयुष्य ..
ती माझ्या प्रेमाची जितीजागती मूर्ती होती
माझ्या लहानग्याची मायाळू ‘ममा’ होती…
पण तरीही,
माझ्या मनात तुझ्यासाठी
लवलेशही नाही द्वेषाचा ..!

मला नाही माहीत कोण आहेस तू ?
आणि खरं सांगू,
मला ते जाणून ही घ्यायचं नाही ऽ
आत्म्याचं थडगं झालंय ज्यांच्या
त्यांना असते का काही नाव गाव ?

वेडया,
तू जेव्हा बेधुंद चालवित होतास ,
तुझ्या निर्दयी गोळया
माझ्या प्रियेच्या देहावर
तेव्हा,
तुझ्या प्रत्येक गोळीसरशी
जखमी होत होता तुझा खुदा
रक्ताळत होते त्याचे ह्रदय ,
ज्याने स्वतःच्या प्रतिमेबरहुकूम
बनविले होते तुला …!!!
---------------------------------

---------------------------------

द्वेष आणि सूडाची भेट
तरीही,
मी देणार नाही तुला..!
अजिबात नाही..!!
मला आहे ठावे,
तुला हीच भेट हवी आहे.
पण तुझ्या आंधळया द्वेषाला
पांगळया रागाने प्रत्युत्तर देण्याचा
अडाणीपणा मी करणार नाही,
मी नाही जाणार बळी
तिरस्काराच्या या वेडगळ वणव्यात ..!

तुला घाबरावयाचे आहे मला,
तुला वाटते,
मी पाहवे संशयाने
माझ्या प्रत्येक देशबांधवाकडे
आणि स्वतःला सुरक्षित ठेवण्यासाठी
मी ओलिस ठेवावे माझे स्वातंत्र्य ..
सॉरी,
असे काहीच नाही होणार,
हरला आहेस तू …!

अरे,
रात्रंदिवस मी वाट पाहत होती तिची
आणि
अखेरीस आज सकाळी मी पाह्यलं तिला.
तुला सांगू,
बारा वर्षांपूर्वी मी तिला पहिल्यांदा पाहयलं
आणि वेडयासारखा तिच्या प्रेमात पडलो,
त्या क्षणाची आठवण झाली…
तुझ्या गोळयांनी देहाची चाळण झालेली असतानाही
आजही ती तेवढीच सुंदर दिसत होती रे…

माझं चिमुकलं जग उध्वस्त झालंय
मानायचाच असेल तर,
हाच तुझा थोडासा विजय..!
पण माझी ही वेदना फार काळ टिकणार नाही
कारण
मला पक्के ठावे आहे,
ती सदैव माझ्यासोबतच असणार आहे
आणि
आम्ही पुन्हा विहरत राहू
आमच्या अनोख्या प्रेमाच्या नंदनवनात,
जिथे तुला पाऊल टाकायलाही बंदी आहे.

आता आम्ही दोघेच आहोत
मी आणि माझा लहानगा मेल्वील
अवघ्या सतरा महिन्यांचा आहे तो..!
पण लक्षात ठेव,
जगातल्या कोणत्याही सैन्याहून
बलशाली आहोत आम्ही बापलेक..!
तुझ्याकडे लक्ष दयायला वेळच नाही माझ्याकडे,
दुपारच्या झोपेतून आता जागा होईल माझा पोर
मला भरवायचे आहे त्याला
मग
आम्ही बापलेक खेळायला जाऊ…
आणि हो,
हा माझा चिमुकला मेल्वील
असाच मोकळा ढाकळा राहिल
पाखरासारखा
आनंदी असेल
गोजि-या फुलपाखरासारखा
आणि
तुझ्या काळजावर
उमटत राहिल भितीचा थरकाप
कारण
त्याच्याही मनात तुझ्यासाठी
द्वेषाचा लवलेशही नसेल.

( भावानुवाद – डॉ प्रदीप आवटे )

मन - बहिणाबाई चौधरी

मन वाभरं वाभरं
देहा हातून फरार
किती बांधू दावणीला
स्थिर नाही घडीभर

देह श्रोत्यात बसला
मन आत बडबडे
ऐकू कुणाचे कळेना
दोघे घालती साकडे

मना हरणाचे पाय
देह हातावर घडी
आज्ञा अन अवज्ञेची
आत चाले रेटारेटी

देह समजूतदार
बंद ठेवी सारी दारं
मन मांजर चोरटी
मनातल्या लोण्यावर

देह शिक्षित शहाणा
मन यड खुळं बेणं
देह हसे दुसऱ्याला
मन हसे स्वतःवर
---------------------------------

---------------------------------

देह चुलीपाशी रत
मन फिरे रानोमाळ
देही हिशेब नेटका
मनी कवितेची ओळ

देह टापटीप घडी
मन द्रौपदीचं वस्त्र
देहा लाज अतोनात
मन दत्त दिगंबर

देह घर आवरत
मन आवरतं विश्व
देह कार्यशील मग्न
मन आठवांत रत

देह जागच्या जागी
मन दूर दूर झरे
देह दिनचर्या घडी
मन वेल्हाळ पसरे

देह पाही याची डोळा
मना अलौकिक दृष्टी
देह पाही पान फूल
मनी मंतरली सृष्टी

देह संसार टुकीचा
मन पसारा अमाप
देह कपाटाचे दार
मन चोरखण आत.

देह जाचतो टाचतो
मन मखमल मऊ
देह वचक दरारा
मन म्हणे नको भिऊ

देह जड जड भिंत
मन झिरपती ओल
देह रंग सजावट
मन गहराई खोल.

देह मन देह मन
जरी तळ्यात मळ्यात
देहा मनाचे अद्वैत
भरी घडा काठोकाठ

डॉ.नरेन्द्र दाभोळकरांची कविता

डॉ.नरेन्द्र दाभोळकर सरांची एक निर्भीड कविता ....

मुर्त्यांना पुजण्यापेक्षा, माणूसकिला पूजतो मी !
काल्पनिक देवांना न मानता, फुले,शाहू,आंबेडकरांना वाचतो मी !
छाती ठोकून सांगतोय, असत्य नाकारणारा नास्तिक आहे मी !
पोथ्या,पुराणे वाचण्यापेक्षा शिवरायांना वाचतो मी !
दगडासमोर त्या कशाला झुकू ? जिजाई,सावित्री,रमाईपुढे नतमस्तक होतो मी !
छाती ठोकून सांगतोय, असत्य नाकारणारा नास्तिक आहे मी !
---------------------------------

---------------------------------
घामाचे पैसे दानपेटीत टाकून, भटांची घरे भरत नाही मी !
तहानलेल्यांना पाणी, भूकेलेल्यांना अन्न देऊन, त्यांच्यातच देव शोधतो मी !
छाती ठोकून सांगतोय, असत्य नाकारणारा नास्तिक आहे मी !
हिंदू,मुस्लिम,सिख,ईसाई म्हणून जगण्यापेक्षा, माणूस म्हणून जगतो मी !
धर्मातील पाखंडांना न जपता, माणूसपणालाच जपतो मी !
छाती ठोकून सांगतोय, असत्य नाकारणारा नास्तिक आहे मी !
कर्तुत्ववान माणसापेक्षा, दगडाला श्रेष्ठ समजत नाही मी !
मंत्र,होमहवन,कर्मकांड यांना पायाखाली तुडवून, मनगटावर भरवसा ठेवतो मी !
छाती ठोकून सांगतोय, असत्य नाकारणारा नास्तिक आहे मी !
मांजर आडवी गेली म्हणून न थांबता, थेट माझ्या ध्येयाजवळ त्या पोहोचतो मी !
अंधश्रद्धेला मातीत लोळवून, विज्ञानवाद स्विकारतो मी !
छाती ठोकून सांगतोय, असत्य नाकारणारा नास्तिक आहे मी !
-डॉ.नरेन्द्र दाभोळकर