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Pushpa R. Tuladhar
http://pushpatuladhar.purpledream.com |
Pushpa Ratna Tuladhar, born on February 28, 1948 in Kathmandu, Nepal, is a poet and editor of Layalama Online Magazine, www.layalama.com, only quarterly literary magazine from the Himalayan Kingdom of Nepal. His publications include a poetry collection in Nepal Bhasa, Ghayanmo (1990) and A Shattered Beauty, a collection of 19 poems in English.
Contact: Pushpa Ratna Tuladhar pushpatuladhar@purpledream.com. | | |
A Cup Of Tea
02/01/03
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I
Far beyond the horizon
When the rooster sang
A song of dawn coming
Beauty of the dawn
Sign of the day to come
Tears the thin sheet of my sound sleep apart
Waking me up
My beloved lady pours
In the cup of dark sky
A glow of the Dawn
A cup of tea
A day in my life
For completion of my daily works in order
My beloved will shake my body
Tired of deep sleep in the night before
And put in front of me
A Cup of Tea
So sweet taste of the morn I drink
A cup of Tea
II
Being tired of my daily works
My hands and legs are on the wane
With support of my time
As walking stick in my hand
My footsteps reach my home
When the signs of the eve coming
Far away in the west
A flock of egret comes back to his nest
The day then turns back
The lady of eve in the west
Pours in the cup of blue sky
Sign of the day gone and the night to come
A glow of the Eve
A cup of tea
I lay silently
On mattress of the green field
Seeing me tired from my hard works
The sweet smiles of my beloved
Greet me with her expressions of
A deep love
A cup of Tea
My dried lips taste with difference
A Cup of Tea
Wrinkles in my face by tiredness vanishes
How pleasant the feelings and freshness
I've in my mind by
The beauty of the Eve
A Cup of Tea
III
The greenery of the nature
Flourishes the beauty of the spring
By the sweet fragrances of flowers
The Wind whistles
In rhymes that
A couple of birds sing
And fills sweet dreams in my mind
Turning the pages of my life
I blossom inside me then
And hold in my hands
A cup of Tea
So sweet the taste that I admire
Beyond my belief
Every seconds of my life
Trickle down the juices of my whole life
In
A cup of tea
Truly not only water
Seven colors of the Spectrum
In the cup of the sky that poured by
The beauty of the Rainbow
I thank myself for
Every success in my life
A cup of Tea
VI
Every seconds of my life
Render tastes as the flavor with difference
From every sip that I enjoy
A cup of tea
In the teapot of the Blues
Full of clear water from the spring
Indigenously blended with
Nine sweet herbs and plants
From the Himalayan forests
And boiled with sugar
To the point in which the water vapors
My nostrils smell the sweet fragrances
From the Nature of the Earth
Unveiling every aspects of my life
To the eternity
To elude total bitterness from my life
My lady pours
The essences of herbs
As stimulant to my life
In
A cup of tea
Every sip rouses the potency in my life
A cup of tea
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Nero Is Playing His Fiddle
02/06/03
So busy I'm in the chat-room
Chatting with a nick named lady |
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On her humor
On her life
On her experiences
So frankly with me
Sharing her life, love, sex and affairs
May be 'cause I know her not
Only the assumption of her beauty in my mind
I'm here in my room somewhere in the Himalayas
She's far away beyond the seven oceans
I don't care of
Suicide-bombers roaming actively
In the busy marketplaces in Israel
For total freedom of Palestine
I don't care of
War planes that are bombing
In the targets of terrors in Palestine
To end the terrorism
I don't care even
My peaceful country where Budhha was born
Turned into war fields by Moists
All the beings sleeping deeply in tranquility
On their own pure personalities
Who cares?
So busy myself in the chat-room
Chatting with a nick named lady
Far away from the atmosphere of
The cold war between human beings
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My Shadow
02/11/03 |
My shadow lives my life
With strong-mindedness;
Majestic in character and
Sophisticated in fashion
More spacious in capacity and
Efficient in activity
Than me and my own life
Growing out of my strength
It isolates me from my life
And seduces my properties
To maintain its own identity
As if old enough in humanity
To throw me away in waste container
My shadow, that I throw in the earth
Stretches my body in full
Shearing the clothes from my body
With only the skinny left over
No one can recognize me
As my own identity
I try to run away from my shadow
That chases me like a wild goose
I scan the horizon of my life
Far beyond my limitations
And search my identity
Inside me and my life
Not knowing any relation
If it exists, with my shadow
To name |
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Let My Bygones Be Bygones
02/16/03
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Striking a matchstick gently
On the surface of the matchbook
For warming up the winter
Underneath the wetted wooden log
As leftover after burnt
Wetted sulfur
Damp surface of the matchbook
Not yielded even the short lighting
As in the stormy sky
By striking winds each other
Only the empty stick left
After a smell of burnt sulfur
I stifle a yawn
By opening my pages
Of my bygone days
If something leftover
For pure satisfaction in my mind
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Feelings
02/24/03
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On the stone canvas
Beside the stream flowing onwards
Brushes dipping in
Each colors of the spectrum
Dispersed by the sun rays
Thru' the watery surface of the stream
Painted a beautiful damsel
With sweet lively smile that
Speaks for herself
Every second of the day
Every stranger passing by this stream
Standing still for a while
Staring at her beauty that
Creates the passionate love in his heart
Knowing her nature in reality
With tears in his eyes
And gloom in his face
Passes his way desperately
As the time passing by
A passerby who fell in deep love with her
Turned lunatic by her beauty
Rinsed away the image as whole
By the flowing waters from the stream
Only the stone left as it is
But no canvas longer
The passerby breathes
Purely satisfied in his mind
As sacrificed herself for his love
And passes by his own way to eternity
Swearing never to return this way again
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My Death
03/01/03 |
As if the milk turns
My soul detaches from my body
My body and my soul floats Severally
In the surface of my life
My soul that grasp my breath
Vanishes into dusk
My identity as human in my life
Tears apart from my body
And turns into stone without sense and gasp
Pretty hectic I'm in my routine
No time to be bothered myself
During my whole life
Unconsciously
The sole joints that sojourn
My body with life defuses
The solder between them and
Splits into my body and soul
My soul fades away
As the mercury exposes to the air
Only my body as left over
Impassive and immovable
Lying in the earth
As anonymous and unclaimed
Then the Death commiserates
And prompts to confer his own name
For my body
That has no sense and gasp
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The Forest
03/10/03 |
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Inside me blossoms a dense forest
From the roots of my body hairs,
Faster than the eternal verities of my life
Running after time,
Disperses over my whole body
From my head to heel
Towards my armpits, chest and groin,
Hides my identity as human under a bushel
And deters my skin's feeling
From the warmth of the sun,
As the whole Amazon forests do.
In the world of my own,
My closest relation that agglutinates
My life and my identity,
Adheres in every nook and cranny
The slippery moss by the grasses
Which merges into the dense forests
And shrouds my true face,
My eyebrow, my moustache and my beards
Only visible are my forehead and my pupil,
My nostril and my lips
The hairs in my body and armpits
As the roots of the tree
Grows faster into the dense forests that
Anchors my whole body to the planet
To relinquish myself to the forests
My own pride that's dedicated to be
Out of the dense forest
Segregates me and myself from my existence
As the serpent peels up his skin
But waives
As a faithful and civilized human
To the densely forest
Blanketed all over my body
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The Peace Digger
03/17/03 |
Staring at the sky of gloomy night
To an edge scanned by his piercing eyes,
The gray haired human,
Grasping his feet hold of his earth
Quaked by the war,
Occupies in his optimum endeavor
To feel sensory experience of
The still of a shining star
That plunged to his planet
By delving with his walking stick
Into numerous groups of the shining stars
Shattered in the sky.
The gray-haired human so severely shivers
With fear of not being unaware of
His spirit of tenacious belief
To experience his consciousness of
A divine breath of serene living
In the cool and calm atmosphere
Condensed by still of the shining star and
Poured by the greenery of Nature.
Every once in a while
The gray haired human
Takes his courageous stand
Grasping his feet rigid hold
Rigorously in his earth
To be severely secured
Not to tumble over his planet
By the sudden hit tremor.
No fatigued spirit he has
Beyond his limitless vigorous efforts,
Truly contented he is
And sturdy belief he has.
The still of the shining star
Drops truly in his planet
And fortifies a plethora of greens
To his planet, where he deeply breathes.
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The Tree
03/24/03 |
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Inside you've an earth of difference
With the ocean of clear water
The sky of the blues and
The Nature of greenery
That has no units to measure
In this earth
Choosing the soft soil from the ground
Crescent spade in the sky
Dug deep inside the earth
Sowed a flower seed of its own kind
That adores
Fresh water from the ocean
Sunlight from the blues of the sky
Greens of the nature
For a while
Storm comes and then stillness loves the sky
Tide roars and oceans stand still after
Nature turns itself into spring
The flower seeds that sowed
Burst into seedling
That I took from seedbed
To plant again on the Earth inside you
That blossoms the flowers with fragrance
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Illusion
04/02/03
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Standing firmly
At the bottom of the mountain so high
I looked up and up for
My aim I found
As wandering shadow as ghost
On the top of the mountain
Measuring the height of the mount
My feet galloped the top in steps
Oh ! I'm so scared
Both of my bare hands fly on the air
Looking up intently
On the Blues of the limitless sky
For my aim's still far away
From the pupil of my eye
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