One man cut the bund/barrage, and a thousand people fell into the river.
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One man cut the barrage, and a thousand people fell into the river.
Tears of the Gods!
Once he wore his nine-tasselled towel
around his hip bearing a drum at front of his midrif
he would sing aloud to invoke Lord Ayyanar,
half-buried at the outer base of the bund
of our village rain-fed tank,
to help him beating the drum
for moving the feet of his three daughters
with parrot-topped brass pots over their heads.
People near and far took his troop
at the time of festivals, being mesmerized
by the mavis of his dancing angels. 11
But he never gave up the service
of drumming up on the ghouls-howling tank bund
when the moon was out and hid.
The sound could be heard
by the sleepless elders of our village.
He would swim across the river
and reach the village on the other bank
to alert them for raising the river-bank,
and escape the wrath of the swelling river,
when floods from the western ghats
came in a roaring fury
and made a breach in the tank bund. 23
Covering himself with a hessian to bear the cold,
he would sing seeking the grace of the Lord
to save him from the hoodwinking elves
and protect the tank from breaching
Or else the paddy fields would be going dry.
Once he fell ill and lay at home.
The morning brought him news of a miracle.
Some theatre-goers to the nearby town
who came back after midnight,
asked him why he went unheeded
with a spear in his hand
in that dead of night on the bund.
The tank-keeper shed tears
thinking of the feat of the Lord on his behalf. 36
The breeze ruffling the watery surface
would lull him to sleep;
but snakes on the bund would hiss at him;
and he would dither and dodder along
humming the name of the Lord several times.
When thunder rumbled, he would shout
“Arjun had ten names” to thwart it.
Dredging leaves and flowers over the idol,
he would offer his thanks and prayers
and walk his way home in the small hours.
His forefathers had hewed out this career
for some sheaves of reaped paddy
at the time of harvest from every family.
But God willed to relieve him from this duty
by giving him only daughters.
Leaving them at his hovel in the night
he would go to guard the bund. 53
Once the inflow to the tank was heavy
and the bund breached and overflowed the river.
He swam across the violent river as usual
to reach the other bank for waking up his villagers.
He had hair-breath escapes in the past
yet he served for his family’s pride.
The cloudy dawn brought his sad daughters
on the northern bank of the river
while the whole village was looking silent
into the merciless river from the southern bank.
An old one said he heard his shouts in the night.
Another said he came in his dream drumming aloud.
But was nowhere found the nine-tasselled drummer.
Rains seem reluctant to pour in that region
and there has been no question of a successor
to that wonderful keeper of our village tank. 69
poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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Anim
I was born by the river and l live by this river,
For at the age of five i fell in love to the river.
I was married at the age of fifteen to a fisherman,
And i've never been to school before;
But my only education is with this river.
The name of my husband is Anim and,
We live by this river;
For my birth and life are all based by this river!
But today, i am old with my children born on this river.
At dawn i go out with my canoe to catch some fish,
And i have a hook to catch some fish at daylight as well;
For this river had been my life ever since.
My husband is a fisherman and,
I was married to him at fifiteen;
And we've lived all our lives on this river.
This is my home and homw of my children,
This is my way of life and of the people around me,
For this river is all that i know in this world.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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The Bihar Floods 2008
Fed by the melting snows from Himalayas,
And seven tributaries through the year,
The river Kosi still remains untamed!
A giant ‘water-snake’ that moves side-wards,
Flooding the fields and washing off all huts –
A river that is annually ‘in spate’!
The ‘Kosi’ is the ‘sorrow of Bihar’!
A million people have lost huts and homes;
Many are stranded without shelter, food.
The plight of people is so pathetic;
The helicopters can rescue but few;
The food-packets don’t reach the hungry souls!
They blame a broken barrage near Nepal;
But embankments can’t stop the annual floods;
The river changed its course so many times!
O Indian, wake up to the neighbor’s call!
Share your mite to help the marooned people;
Your love of brethren should engulf your hearts!
O God, have mercy on the flood-hit state!
Recede the waters of Kosi in spate;
Rescue the victims and improve their fate!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 08-31-2008
poem by John Celes
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Barrage
A barrage
Of memories
Rushes -
Through
My mind
A barrage
Of tears
Rushes -
Through
My eyes
In this
Frantic
Race of
Memories
Versus
Tears…
No matter
Whoever
Wins…
I always
Remain -
The loser.
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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One
One thousand voices
But not one heard
One thousand thoughts
But not one word
One thousand troubles
But no one will know it
Unless I decide to
Finally show it
One thousand cuts
Run down my arm
A tribute to my
Life of self-harm
One thousand scars
That will not heal
One thousand people
Who will not feel
One thousand but no more
I finally decide
There will be one less person
And one more suicide
poem by Anonymous Ghurl
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Alankar (Decor) -8
Village-Silence
Even He can not measure His bliss
Of silence there
As it has gone beyond His grip
Of creational magic
It sounds like a God more supreme
Than His might
A silence soused in distant melodies mild
Cow dung scenting
In rhythmic trance compliant cows pose genteel
Before child Krishna
The lake beside Him presents itself composed
In submissive hue
A sanctuary much awaiting birds migratory soon
Sprawling wide over
Neatly done bund inebriating providential breaths live
Solace for anybody
Me too benched on the bund there
Till stars croon
Moony mind winged mine fleets elysian mindless
To return home
(On A Visit To A Birds' Sanctuary At Koonthankulam)
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Where Is The River?
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or somewhere else
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or hidden under the ground
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or safe inside the cave
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or still far away
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or up above the cloud
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or out of our reach
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or trickling on the rock
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or gathering in the pool
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or down over the cliff
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or just sight of illusion
Where is the river?
Is it here
Running in your eyes
Where is the river?
Is it here
Or sudden flood in the road
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Dog River Blues
Well I first kissed you on a hollow log
Down by the river they call the dog
We fell in love and we vowed that day
Like the flow of the river our love wont change
Well we married that spring and we built a house
On the bank of the river where the rock juts out
Now the rivers still here but youre long gone
You left me and the river here all alone
I got the dog river blues
Ive walked holes in both my shoes
Now I still got the river but I aint got you
I got the dog river blues
Well the rain came down and the river rose up
Filled up the cab on my pickup truck
It came in the house and down the hall
And washed your picture right off the wall
Chorus
Well my heart still yearns and the river still rolls
And I pray someday itll bring you home
So if you change your mind honey Ill be here
Waiting on the banks of that oldog river
Chorus
song performed by by Alan Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Song of the Fifth River
Where first by Eden Tree
The Four Great Rivers ran,
To each was appointed a Man
Her Prince and Ruler to be.
But after this was ordained
(The ancient legends' tell),
There came dark Israel,
For whom no River remained.
Then He Whom the Rivers obey
Said to him: "Fling on the ground
A handful of yellow clay,
And a Fifth Great River shall run,
Mightier than these Four,
In secret the Earth around;
And Her secret evermore,
Shall be shown to thee and thy Race."
So it was said and done.
And, deep in the veins of Earth,
And, fed by a thousand springs
That comfort the market-place,
Or sap the power of King,
The Fifth Great River had birth,
Even as it was foretold--
The Secret River of Gold!
And Israel laid down
His sceptre and his crown,
To brood on that River bank
Where the waters flashed and sank
And burrowed in earth and fell
And bided a season below,
For reason that none might know,
Save only Israel
He is Lord of the Last--
The Fifth, most wonderful, Flood.
He hears Her thunder past
And Her Song is in his blood.
He can foresay: "She will fall,"
For he knows which fountain dries
Behind which desert-belt
A thousand leagues to the South.
He can foresay: "She will rise."
He knows what far snows melt
Along what mountain-wall
A thousand leagues to the North,
He snuffs the coming drouth
As he snuffs the coming rain,
He knows what each will bring forth,
And turns it to his gain.
A Ruler without a Throne,
A Prince without a Sword,
Israel follows his quest.
In every land a guest,
Of many lands a lord,
In no land King is he.
But the Fifth Great River keeps
The secret of Her deeps
For Israel alone,
As it was ordered to be.
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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No One Steps Twice On The River Of Life...
it is not the rage of this river.
when i was a child, as mother says,
i keep my finger inside my mouth
sucked by my throat, to keep hunger away
beside the bank of this river
i am the spectator
and the river believes in the magic
of my innocence
it flows always in a distant
affection,
it is not the rage of the river,
it is i, the grown up man who goes swimming
in the river and feel
the joys of its cool waters
always moving on towards
a destination
it is the swimming with a friend
and then
with a lover and then with a wife
and then my silence,
what we do not have we force to forget
it is the bathing in the river
the rinsing and the cleansing of the waters
it is not the rage of this river
and then we become too weak to be in this river
the river moves on and on
towards the deepest sea looking for the
opening
i wait by the bank of this river
many things have been missed
the more important ones
the one that gives the posterity of
my humanity
it is denied of me because of this river
that gives me nothing
all the while i was the leaf that fell off from
the tree
on the side of this river
and i floated because i have nothing to do
because i can do nothing about
the flow of the river
i become the dead leaf that the air
rides upon
tossed and bumped on boulders
till i sink
deep down the river
that i shall pass only once.
time.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Comeback
A path has gone towards a river
Wayfarers move along with this
People come from the other side of the river
Most of them are unknown strange
The known people go across
Do they return their own vicinity
The river comeback in high tide
Only those who pass in quest of river
Never comeback
poem by Tapas Baidya
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This Devil's Workday
All those people that you know.
All those people that you know.
All those people that you know,
floatin' in the river are logs.
I could buy myself a reason.
I could sell myself a job.
I could hang myself on treason.
All the folks I know are gone.
All the people that you know.
All the people that you know.
All the people that you know
floatin' in the river are logs.
So I ate the wedding cake
'til the whole damn thing was gone.
And I'm gonna drown the ocean.
Now ain't none o' that so wrong?
All the people that you know.
All those people that you know.
All those people that you know
floatin' in the river are gone.
Gonna take this sack of puppies.
Gonna set it out to freeze.
Gonna climb around on all fours
'til all the blood falls out my knees.
All the people that you know.
All the people that you know.
All those people that you know
floatin' in the river are logs.
Well let's take this potted plant
to the woods and set it free.
I'm gonna tell the owners
just how nice that was of me.
I could buy myself a reason.
I could sell myself a job.
I could hang myself on treason.
Oh I am my own damn god.
HA, HA, HA, HA, HA, HA, HA
song performed by by Modest Mouse
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Enoch Dunlap
How many times, during the twenty years
I was your leader, friends of Spoon River,
Did you neglect the convention and caucus,
And leave the burden on my hands
Of guarding and saving the people's cause? --
Sometimes because you were ill;
Or your grandmother was ill;
Or you drank too much and fell asleep;
Or else you said: "He is our leader,
All will be well; he fights for us;
We have nothing to do but follow."
But oh, how you cursed me when I fell,
And cursed me, saying I had betrayed you,
In leaving the caucus room for a moment,
When the people's enemies, there assembled,
Waited and watched for a chance to destroy
The Sacred Rights of the People.
You common rabble! I left the caucus
To go to the urinal.
poem by Edgar Lee Masters
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The River
She fell in love with a lover boy
In the old days I would walk alone
Any other day not disturbing
While the others roamed
And I listened to her song
But would walk on the other side
Wed be lonely, blue and lonely
Then she fell in love with another one
I was older now, and followed a path
She had learned to be cool, to be caring
And I thought I should say
Its too much just to be
But not enough for the life of me
To be lonely, blue and lonely
Thats when the river ran dry
Thats when the river was all but a spill
Thats when the river ran dry
Every soul on the shore
Without sail, without will
She said her saviour was soon to come
From a long way, to bring back the girl he once knew
To be true and all loving
In the very best ways
And I listened to her song
But would walk on the other side
Wed be lonely, blue and lonely
Thats when the river ran dry
Thats when the river was all but a spill
Thats when the river ran dry
Every soul on the shore
Without sail, without will
If time were a second
If life were a moment that once stood still
Id leave it untattered, untouched, until
But its too much just to be
But not enough for the life of me
To be lonely, blue and lonely
She fell in love with a lover boy
In the old days, I would walk alone
Any other day not disturbing
And I listened to her song
But would walk on the other side
Wed be lonely, blue and lonely
Thats when the river ran dry
Thats when the river was all but a spill
Thats when the river ran dry
Every soul on the shore
Without sail, without will
And I knew it before, and I do know it still
song performed by by Verve Pipe
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Proud Mary
Left a good job in the city,
Workin for the man evry night and day,
And I never lost one minute of sleepin,
Worryin bout the way things might have been.
Chorus:
Big wheel keep on turnin,
Proud mary keep on burnin,
Rollin, rollin, rollin on the river.
Cleaned a lot of plates in memphis,
Pumped a lot of pain down in new orleans,
But I never saw the good side of the city,
til I hitched a ride on a river boat queen.
Chorus
Rollin, rollin, rollin on the river.
If you come down to the river,
Bet you gonna find some people who live.
You dont have to worry cause you have no money,
People on the river are happy to give.
Chorus
Rollin, rollin, rollin on the river.
Rollin, rollin, rollin on the river.
Rollin, rollin, rollin on the river.
song performed by by Creedence Clearwater Revival
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One Hundred Thousand Marching
One hundred thousand marching
One hundred thousand men
One hundred thousand heading
To a place and a time when
One hundred thousand dying
One hundred thousand cold
One hundred thousand praying
Forever young and never old
One hundred thousand lives were lost
One hundred thousand felt the pain
One hundred thousand maimed and slaughtered
And yet those armies march again.
poem by David Keig
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Cross River My River
We are a people from the river
So you do not withhold seafood
From greasing our hungry plates
And giving us savoury taste
As our fathers deploy nets and bamboos
To court fish for the fire at home
Our people paddle their boat
To the centre of your being, and made boast
About the day’s catch, snatched from you
But you do not rage and swallow them up
For the way they gloat
Oh! Sweet Pretty River
You flow to nourish our land like Eden
And supplyfruits and vegetables at no price
To you we owe our home called Paradise
A place flowing with milk and honey
For which we did not pay a penny
Cross River, my pretty river
Mother of all goodness and blessedness I hail
No name would have been better
Than the one you gave a people
Cross River, my pretty river I hail
poem by Serena Eyo
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Waterfall at Lu-shan
Sunlight streams on the river stones.
From high above, the river steadily plunges--
three thousand feet of sparkling water--
the Milky Way pouring down from heaven.
Li T'ai-po
tr. Hamil
Sure Got Cold After The Rain Fell
Album: Sharp Dressed Men: A Tribute To ZZ Top
(Billy F. Gibbons)
Rain fell this mornin',
Made me feel so bad
On account of my baby
Walked off with another man.
Like takin' eyesight from the blind man
And money from the poor
That woman took my lovin'
And walked on out that door
And it sure got cold after the rain fell
Not from the sky, from my eye
--- Instrumental ---
Somebody tell me
Makes a man feel this way
Like a river without water,
Like night without day
And it sure got cold after the rain fell
Not from the sky, from my eye
--- Instrumental ---
Started early in the mornin'
You hear that rain to fall
With thunderbolts and lightning
The wind begins to call
Your worry's superficial
'Cause you slept on through the night
But stormy weather keeps you wond'rin'
If ev'rything's all right
And it sure got cold after the rain fell
Not from the sky, but from my eye
Not from the sky, Lord from my eye
--- Instrumental ---
After the rain fell
And it sure got cold after the rain fell
And it sure got cold after the rain fell
After the rain fell
And it sure got cold...
song performed by by Alan Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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