A Flower To Auroville Mother-99
Magizhampoo(Mimusops elengi)
O'dear starry flowers
I opine you of Vaikunt
Krishna's sandal drops
From His Basil-Chest
As playing His Bansuri
Waving ecstatic Basil
Off chips chandan free
To Earth by wind docile
Blessed me having you
Flowery, fruity a lot
Tiny creamy flora woo
Cooing cuckoos to spot
Such is your fragrance
And your fruity ambrosia
Red and tasty alliance
On high trunked umbrella
And your leafy thicket
When shades the cattle
A shelter of a socket
Like the Govardhan hill
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Submission To The Baby God
The music of Bansuri-the flute,
Fastened me in trance in a heavenly spot.
Little Krishna! i saw you under a tree,
As a cow-herd playing your Bansuri.
Your soft velvety tiny feet,
Dancing in rhythmical gentle beat,
Myself sinking deep, deeper in devotion,
Little Krishna! harmonic was my emotion.
My closed eyes touching your petal-feet,
My arms hugging around your legs resplendent
My nose smelling-in your divine basil,
My bowed body sensing your garland's tickle,
'Ma' you said to make me calm,
Touching me with your tender palm.
Enthralled by your tranquil blessing,
No mind to get back to my living.
I surrender in deep rest of peace,
Unto your abode for your divine solace.
You are my sole, solemn, SAVIOUR!
Krishna! may my soul never waver! .
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Mother Basil
You are the Goddess descendent
Celestiality incomparable
Branching out in austerities ascendant
Wished to thrive in mysticism bridal
Sankachuda done away conjoined Krishna
Namaste Mother Basil namaste
Your aroma, my mind kindled
Reaching your abode my soul
Inhaling your scent my body bowed
Your sanative virtues to console
Voiding my life rancid, nihil
Namaste, Mother Basil, namaste!
Restored at your root the sacred water.
Resides in your heart sacred all power.
The whole of yourself the divine superior
You're godly, no wonder your chaplet ever
Adorning Lord Krishna your lover.
Namaste, Mother Basil, namaste.
Olden days were grand-mas sentimental.
These days are mothers complemental.
True, you're no more questionable
Proven sanctity, curative quality commendable
Ah, science even follows grand-mas admirable
Namaste, Mother Basil, namaste!
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Holy Coiffure
But
She was much elated with His holy adamance
She so pursued admiring with fake unknowingness
Unkempt locks remained in unkempt tresses
Krishna still insisting on a coiffured stylishness
Baby- protector of the cosmic domain
Played upon Yashoda with fake disdain
Yashoda however acted on His resoluteness
And...
There was a presaging love in Krishna's eyes
A future-heroine from the basil-bushes
Aandaal in His holy heart with coiffured elegance
A heavenly romance after aeons to be occurred
In her sprited sense Yashoda discovered
She detected much with immediate sense
Then
Her mind's vision did it with swift hands
Aandaal modelling in Yashoda's heart more glorious
Fledged a peacock feather Krishna's coiffured grace
Dazzled from His Pithambara fulgent golden rays
All-decked-Krishna in gemming beauty
Excelled with Kausthuba and Vaijayanthi
Added with sane emission of sandalwood redolence
Thus
The cherubic babe sported with prattling innocence
Chambered secretly his coiffured appetence
With beaming radiance surpassing crores of suns
With blooming heart revelling like Lakshmi's lotus
Krishna is all prompt now for a jaunt
His Bansuri and Basil too ready to grant
Our hearts to house His boons and blessings
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Lord Krishna
O my Lord! O my Krishna!
Hare Krishna! Hare Krishna!
You are the embodiment of love
you are the divine joy,
you are protector of the religion
all pain and sin, you destroy.
Hare Krishna! Hare Krishna!
Wicked and cruel king Kansa
put your parents in prison.
You released them from jail
appeared as Vishnu's incarnation.
Hare Krishna! Hare Krishna!
As child you led cow herds
had great love for your mother
Grown with magic of your flute
as hero loved by peers and others
Hare Krishna! Hare Krishna!
Kansa sent sinful Putana to kill you
by feeding breast's poisoned milk.
She herself was met to her end
you sucked blood, failed her trick.
Hare Krishna! Hare Krishna!
He was desperate to kill my Lord
So he sent many other demons.
You defeated all of the demons
killed his wicked men one by one.
Hare Krishna! Hare Krishna!
Supported villagers and cattle,
lifted mountain to make shelter,
You killed poisonous snake in river
where cattle used to drink water.
Hare Krishna! Hare Krishna!
Always blessed, who followed your path
taught Arjuna lessons of truth and war.
You turned result of Mahabharat war
into the victory of righteous Pandwas.
Hare Krishna! Hare Krishna!
You come on earth again and again
to save it; in various incarnations.
Without you my Lord! I am nothing
in this universe, nothing can happen.
O my Lord! O my Krishna!
Hare Krishna! Hare Krishna!
poem by S.D. Tiwari
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A Flower To Auroville Mother-105
Tulsi, (Holy basil, Ocimum tenuiflorum)
Watch, o' hitherto flowers
Here comes She from Him
With providential prowess
And you all sing your hymn
She treats you all bound
And you all inhale hmm..
Such is Tulsi, her range
Ovate leaves perfuming
Toothed margins strange
Green or reddish calming
Sanity supremacy deified
Lakshmi, Krishna outrange
Clustered flora circling
On hearty bracts spiked
In wonder all whispering
As she ties you fastened
And treated you let not
Tulsi, away your gathering
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Hare Krishna, prayer
O my Lord! O my Krishna!
Krishna! Krishna!
You are the embodiment of love
you are the divine joy,
you are protector of the religion
all pain and sin, you destroy.
O my Lord! O my Krishna!
Hare Krishna! Hare Krishna!
Wicked and cruel king Kansa
put your parents in prison.
You released them from jail
appeared as Vishnu's incarnation.
O my Lord! O my Krishna! Hare....
As child you led cow herds
had great love for your mother
Grown with magic of your flute
as hero loved by peers and others
O my Lord! O my Krishna! Hare...
Kansa sent sinful Putana to kill you
by feeding breast's poisoned milk.
She herself was met to her end
you sucked blood, failed her trick.
O my Lord! O my Krishna! Hare...
He was desperate to kill my Lord
So he sent many other demons.
You defeated all of the demons
killed his wicked men one by one.
O my Lord! O my Krishna! Hare...
Supported villagers and the cattle,
lifted mountain to make it shelter,
You killed poisonous snake in river
where cattle used to drink the water.
O my Lord! O my Krishna! Hare...
You blessed, who followed the truth
taught Arjuna lessons of truth and war.
You turned result of Mahabharat war
into the victory of righteous Pandwas
O my Lord! O my Krishna! Hare...
You come on earth again and again
to save it; in various incarnations.
Without you my Lord! I am nothing
in this universe, nothing can happen.
O my Lord! O my Krishna! Hare...
S. D. Tiwari
poem by S.D. Tiwari
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Heaven On A Plate
The rain
pounding the basil plants
is enough to release
memories of childhood summers
tomato and basil salads
seasoned by a touch of salt
sprinkled liberally with olive oil
the dish made in heaven.
poem by Vince Gullaci
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A Flower To Auroville Mother-103
Look, she too joins to flavour
Smiling at each other ambrosial
Her leaves stuck to woody server
In whorls tiny flora of sweet basil
Curative culinary sacred aromatic
Hark, entwining through how well
In tangling hush joining together
Help making of a garland wonderful
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Vaijayanti
What the flowers, what the flowers o'my Lord
Doeth cherish Thy garland
Flowers forest wild?
Strung up five elements, a loud chord
Whilst Pandavas and Kauravas
Clashed and crashed and crushed in thunders?
A kind otherwise different
Of a change fervent?
To Arjun Bhagavadatta's slaying vaishnavastra
Forbade Thy merciful neck; to Thine whirled a Vaijayantimaala?
Mother ours, Thy consort, Thy conscience
Sanctifying our flow of transcience
Variably altering Radha to Godha
Seethai to Kothai, Rukmini to Satyabhama
All but one Lakshmi when conjoined
Thy heart garlanding fragrance piled?
And those colours highly bewitching
Thy enchanting flute so matching
What a poise Thee and Thy Vaijayanti
Doeth look like Gopis resting on Thee
Else, gentle Alwars reciting Paasurams
Nestled Vaijayanti genuinely toes down in tassels
Each end velvety bearing on a blot
Me, Thy child a tiny dot
At thy lotus feet joyously feel
Myself soused in fragrant Vaijayanti whole
Jasmine and lily all varieties white
Lotus, rose, nerium all red and bright
Scented leaves of tender green delight
Yellow, blue, purple potpourri intrusively right
Interspersed with a leafy craft of nerium-parrot
Intertwined with entangled strands of basil
Thy vivid persona divine and tranquil
What else for doeth quest this soul mortal
Other than Thee Thy mercy immortal
O' Krishna, fasten me unto Thy lotus feet
My closure amid Thy mercy flowers tight
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Tiny Drop
Waste of Tiny, Tiny Water Drops.
Always Trigger my Conscious Thoughts.
A Tiny Water Drop can make a Sapling Laugh
Tiny, Tiny water Drops can get you sweet Pod.
Tiny, Tiny Water Drops can make a Plant to Stand
As a Tree, This can give Shelter to a Lot.
Because of Waste of Tiny, Tiny water Drops
Many lives have become short.
So try to save even tiny water Drop, Which will
Get you Heartily Laugh.
poem by Narendra Kuppan
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Himalayan Balsam (Cavatina)
Quite indolent somewhat like purple orchids;
a rich fragrance
comes as they do a nice fruity scent spill;
they draw a glance
as they hang jointed, course and delicate,
like a romance
that comes with a sudden kind of whiff
changing to certainty from just an if.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Sometimes I just crave to play in Shakespeare again and I know and love playing Orlando so much.
quote by Basil Rathbone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cuppacumalonga
'Rover, rover, cattle-drover, where go you to-day?'
I go to Cuppacumalomga, fifty miles away;
Over plains where Summer rains have sung a song of glee,
Over hills where laughing rills go seeking for the sea,
I go to Cuppacumalonga, to my brother Bill.
Then come along, ah, come along!
Ah, come to Cuppacumalonga!
Come to Cuppacumalonga Hill!
'Rover, rover, cattle-drover, how do you get there?'
For twenty miles I amble on upon my pony mare,
The walk awhile and talk awhile to country men I know,
Then up to ride a mile beside a team that travels slow,
And last to Cuppacumalonga, riding with a will.
Then come along, ah, come along!
Ah, come to Cuppacumalonga!
Come to Cuppacumalonga Hill!
'Rover, rover, cattle-drover, what do you do then?'
I camp beneath a kurrajong with three good cattle-men;
Then off away at break of day, with strong hands on the reins,
To laugh and sing while mustering the cattle on the plains -
For up to Cuppacumalonga life is jolly still.
Then come along, ah, come along!
Ah, come to Cuppacumalonga!
Come to Cuppacumalonga Hill!
'Rover, rover, cattle-drover, how may I go too?'
I'll saddle up my creamy colt and he shall carry you -
My creamy colt who will not bolt, who does not shy nor kick -
We'll pack the load and take the road and travel very quick.
And if the day brings work or play we'll meet it with a will.
So Hi for Cuppacumalonga!
Come Along, ah, come along!
Ah, come to Cuppacumalonga Hill!
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Every Day I Work For The Posterity
to my cleaner, friedrich hölderlin and me.
every day i work for the posterity
this free duty
for the beauty
the fruity rarity
poem by Nicolas Grenier
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Purple Grapes
Fresh purple grapes,
Dried raisin cakes
I love the seedless kind.
Grape fruit essence
The fruity, tasty kind.
Give it as presents,
I'll tell you I don't mind.
Grape fruit essence
As good as Merlot wine.
Acushla
I NAMED her twice, I named her thrice,
I named her ten times over;
The wind heard, and the singing bird,
And the bee in the creamy clover.
Acushla! Acushla!
The cushat dove is cooing;
It's little that a man may do,
Whose heart is hot with wooing.
I left the field, the harvest yield —
The grain was ripe to falling —
And ran, and ran, a crazy man,
And I the whole time calling
'Acushla! Acushla!
The cushat dove is cooing;
When Love is keeping holiday,
What work is worth the doing?'
Her feet were fleet, her pretty feet
Upon the hill and hollow;
She bade me stay, she cried me nay,
And still her eyes said 'Follow!'
Acushla! Acushla!
The cushat dove is cooing;
To capture her was sweet, indeed,
Yet sweeter the pursuing.
poem by Roderic Quinn
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A Flower To Auroville Mother-5
Manoranjitham(Artabotrys odoratissimus)
In your harem of bushy greens
You're the queen of queens
Watchful sentinels array thorny fence
Hooked on what your pondering pendulous
In a whorl entwined to yourself
Does your chromatic gleam strife
Green to yellow in shifting florescence
What for transpire richly your fragrance
A splendour treating nausea and tension
A wonder supressing human-depression
Elating your fruity perfuming variety
Dear flower, your's is lordly propriety
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Limbs, not heads, are in fight
Jesus and Krishna are not two entities
As were evolved in the west and the east
But rooted as same in Afghanistan,
As though they are two sides of a coin.
Both were born in cattle sheds.
Both did rearing cattle and miracles.
Jesus spread love and Krishna, faith.
Jesus stood by poor, Krishn, by Kings.
Jesus to the Christians is the Son of God.
Krishna to the Hindus, the God incarnation.
Jesus and Krishna have more in common
Than the Christians and the Hindus.
14.11.2000, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Happy Birth Day
With the side of the folded fist
Dipped into the batter of rice
Imprinted are the Holy Feet
Of little Krishna, 'Kolam' of providence
From the floor of the street
Via the steps along the house
Inwardly upto the 'pooja' almirah straight
Where picture of Krishna with floral garlands,
Lit holy lamps, incense, sandal paste
Sindhoor, assorted flowers, holy yellow rice,
Special fruits, varieties of milk sweet,
And snacks made of gram and rice-
'Seedai, murukku, thenkuzhal, thattai' on big plate
Are ready and the priest next invokes
Lord Ganesh, next to propitiate
Lord Krishna with all the delicious delights
Marking Krishna's birth thus devout great
Full of exultation eating the delicacies..
Krishna eating? mm..Krishna alone knows
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Bakula
O'Bakula, Bakula
Tell me
Your secrecy why sri Krishna
His Bansuri played under your canopy
Whilst you shedding your drizzles
Gathered the cows in gentle breeze
Tell me
St.Sambandar why under your shade
To marry assured Sangili Nachiar
Whilst you murmuring in gentle sway
Played concealed Shiva in your shadiness
Tell me
Temple lords all choose why you
In tranquility seated by your side
Tri-faceted turned why even Lord Muruga
At Elangi in your courtship importunate
Tell me
Your medicament exercised why to luxuriate
Usage of barks, flowers, fruits all yours why
Prized ethereal your gardenia why
Blossoms yours laced into laurels why
O'Bakula, Bakula
Look, handful mine your aromatic blossoms
To open up here truth of your heavenliness
Sunny-tiny, their celestiality wafting fragrance
Speaketh of trees five of providence
'Sandhanam, Mandharam, Karpagam, Parijatham
With Devatharu their evil fate suffered
Be out of demonism sought they to Shiva
Blessed then into one Bakula tree all five
Up His words seated at Thiruvotriyur
Shiva in shadiness beneath the Bakula tree'
O'Bakula, Bakula
Firmament so is your mother factual
poem by Indira Renganathan
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