As Machado said,
a poet is a fisherman.
A fisherman beyond time
wishing that the fish caught in the ever-flowing
a fish that shook and shimmered five minutes ago,
will live even out of water.
For the lucky few,
it is no miracle. They make it happen.
But in the hands of some like us,
it’s nothing more than dead fish
rotting and with unblinking eyes.
For some others,
A dish of crisp fried fish
and rasam of flowing water
Fisherman, Kuntobille, a collection of poems in Kannada by A.K. Ramanujan, translated into English by B.C. Ramachandra Sharma.
‘Hopsctoch’, Silver Ink on Black Paper; 56 x 76 cms
Only sculpture proves
that ghosts copulate
even when people are looking.
Sculpture; Excerpts from Father’s wisdom, The Striders, a collection of poems in English by A.K. Ramanujan.
Silver Ink on Black Paper ; 76 x 56 cms
A Ship Drowning
A ship drowning,
calling out for help
in a lashing sea.
I tossed in the ocean of births
when the lord
in his splendour
bearing wheel and conch,
called out to me : “O.O. you there!”
showed me his grace.
and became one with me.
A Ship Drowning, Hymns for the Drowning, poems for Vishnu by Nammalvar, translated from Tamil into English by A.K. Ramanujan.
If they see breasts
If they see
breasts and long hair coming
they call it woman,
if beard and whiskers
they call it man:
but, look, the self that hovers
is neither man
If they see breasts, Speaking of Shiva, Vachanas in Kannada translated into English by A.K. Ramanujan.