The Rabbit and the Moon (Vaidehi)

Audio of the original Kannada poem:


The Rabbit and the Moon (ಮೊಲ ಮತ್ತು ಚಂದ್ರ)

The moon came over the mountain
he climbed the mountain and left

Here, right here, he stood
he was there silently
he looked like he was running
he moved like he was coming down

The moon left over the mountain
he climbed the mountain and came

He was playing in a silence,
washing his face-of-light
a moon-dot was on his forehead –
it was a summer’s night

The moon came over the mountain
he climbed the mountain and left

He rose from the clouds’s thisside
he slept between the clouds
waking, suddenly, he turned
into a child that laughed

The moon left over the mountain
he climbed the mountain and came

the moon came over the mountain
he saw a rabbit kid

Quietly – slowly – he said come,
he gently picked it up
(the wind swung in the sky)
rock, my darling, rock –
isn’t the world a sight!

The traveller came over the mountain
he climbed the mountain and left
in the terrace of the sky above
is the rabbit with the moon

Afterword:

Not too long ago, I published a translation of Vaidehi’s well-known poem, ‘ತಿಳಿದವರೇ … ಹೇಳಿ (You who clearly know … tell me)“, in which she professes to knowing much more about ತಿಳಿಸಾರು (tiḷisaaru: ~ clear saaru) than poetry. While that poem is obviously satirically self-deprecating and the poem’s conceit is clearly feminist, I am actually inclined to agree with Vaidehi’s assessment – speaking strictly in terms of “lyric poetry”. What I mean is: very few of Vaidehi’s poems would qualify as lyric poems, which are the kind of poems I like best (but which are, especially in today’s modernist or post-modernist or whatever times, perhaps the hardest kind of poems to write). From what I can tell, most of Vaidehi’s poems are “free verse” poems – almost prose-like actually. (This isn’t to say that Vaidehi is capable of writing lyric poetry – the sensitive nature of her prose is proof that she has the necessary sensibility.)

In any case, this particular poem is one of Vaidehi’s few lyrical poems (in that it moves to a rhythm). Perhaps the poem allows for a deeper reading, but from what I can tell, it seems to be a poem for children – which, then, explains its rhythmic nature. It’s also why I chose to sing rather than recite it.

You who clearly know … tell me (Vaidehi)

Smt. Vaidehi is one of Kannada’s best-known writers of modern fiction. Short stories are her preferred form, but she is also a novelist, playwright, biographer, essayist, and poet. Most of her work is informed by a feminine (feminist?) perspective and she has made it clear in several interviews that she finds it necessary to tell these stories about women and the various worlds they inhabit and navigate (within the patriarchy). This particular poem is considered a classic and has been widely anthologized.

I trust Smt. Vaidehi will not object to this publication of my English translation of the poem. Naturally, the copyright to the original lies with Smt. Vaidehi and her publisher. I am also, since the poem is popular enough to be otherwise available, giving the poem’s original Kannada text and English transliteration below. You can find the guide to reading the transliteration here.

You who clearly know … tell me (ತಿಳಿದವರೇ … ಹೇಳಿ)

You who clearly know what poetry is –
tell me;
I do not know poetry
clear saaru* is what I know

What do you think clear saaru is?
It too needs within
a water-truth – a truth of fragrance –
a rasa-truth that boiling forms;
this way –

in the corner lay the saaru-pan
cooled-like but uncooled,
as though wait-boiling upon
an emberous stove;
so what if it waiting-boils?

Within the merriness
of lightly-exchanged laughter
of the drumbeat-feet
of servers who serve the meaty-meal
with a dash of spice
(like a lightning-flash),
the diaphanous clear-saar remained
from the morning on

cooled-like but uncooled
upon the emberous stove
dried from the boiling and reboiling,
unspoiled though it is now night!

Tell me, you who know poetry so clearly
do you know clear-saaru?
Forgive me, I do not know poetry

(Translated by Madhav K. Ajjampur)

*saaru – the Kannada word for a watery broth or infusion (usually) made using a specially-prepared powder (saaru pudi), several spices, and boiled-to-softening toor dal; often and mistakenly conflated with rasam – which is (usually) a much blander dal-less version

Nota bene: I have deliberately chosen to translate the word ತತ್ತ್ವ (tattva) as truth – rather than the usual “essence”. While I will acknowledge that my main reason for doing so is the translation’s prosody, it is worth noting that tattva is a Sanskrit word that encompasses a spectrum of meaning – with a primary (ontological) meaning that references the higher truth of the metaphysical sameness of the aatman and the brahmaṇ.

Original and Transliterated lyrics:

ಕಾವ್ಯದ ಬಗ್ಗೆ ತಿಳಿದವರೇ
ಹೇಳಿ. ನನಗೆ ಕಾವ್ಯ ಗೊತ್ತಿಲ್ಲ
ತಿಳಿಸಾರು ಗೊತ್ತು

kāvyada bagge tiḷidavarē
hēḷi. nanage kāvya gottilla
tiḷisāru gottu

ತಿಳಿಸಾರು ಎಂದರೆ ಏನೆಂದುಕೊಂಡಿರಿ?
ಅದಕ್ಕೂ ಬೇಕು ಒಳಗೊಂದು
ಜಲತತ್ತ್ವ – ಗಂಧತತ್ತ್ವ –
ಕುದಿದು ಹದಗೊಂಡ ಸಾರತತ್ತ್ವ
ಹೀಗೆ –

tiḷisāru endare ēnendukonḍiri?
adakkū bēku oḷagondu
jalatattva – gandhatattva –
kudidu hadagonḍa sāratattva
hīge –

ಇತ್ತು ಸಾರಿನ ಪಾತ್ರೆ ಮೂಲೆಯಲ್ಲಿ
ನಂಗದೆಯೂ ನಂಗದಂತಿದ್ದ
ಬೂದಿ ಮುಚ್ಚಿದ ಕೆಂಡದೊಲೆಯ ಮೇಲೆ
ಕಾಯುತ್ತಿದ್ದಂತೆ. ಕಾದರೇನು?

ittu sārina pātre mūleyalli
nangadeyū nangadantidda
būdi muccida kenḍadolaya mēle
kāyuttidante. kādaṛenu?

ಮಾಂಸದಡುಗೆಯ ಕಿಡಿಮಿಂಚು ವಗ್ಗರಣೆಯ
ಬಡಿಸುವ ಝಣ್ ಝಣ್ ನಡಿಗೆಯವರ
ಲಘು ನಗೆ ಬಗೆ ವಿನಿಮಯ ಒಡ್ಡೋಲಗದಲ್ಲಿ
ತೆಳ್ಳನೆಯ ತಿಳಿಸಾರು ಹಾಗೆಯೇ ಇತ್ತು
ಬೆಳಗಿಂದ

māmsadaḍugeya kiḍimincu vaggaraṇeya
baḍisuva jhaṇ jhaṇ naḍigeyavara
laghu nage bage vinimaya oḍḍōlagadalli
teḷḷaneya tiḷisāru hāgeyē ittu
beḷaginda

ನಂಗದೆಯೂ ನಂಗಿದಂತಿದ್ದ ಕೆಂಡದೊಲೆಯ ಮೇಲೆ
ಕುದಿಕುದಿದು ಬತ್ತಿ
ರಾತ್ರಿಯಾದರೂ ಹಳಸದೆ!

nangadeyū nangidantidda kenḍadoleya mēle
kudukudidu batti
rātriyādarū haḷasade!

ಕಾವ್ಯದ ಬಗ್ಗೆ ದೊಡ್ಡಕೆ ತಿಳಿದವರೇ
ಹೇಳಿ. ಗೊತ್ತೇ ತಿಳಿಸಾರು ನಿಮಗೆ?
ಕ್ಷಮಿಸಿ, ಗೊತ್ತಿಲ್ಲ ಕಾವ್ಯ ನನಗೆ

kāvyada bagge doḍḍake tiḷidavarē
hēḷi. gottē tiḷisāru nimage?
kshamisi, gottilla kāvya nanage

P.S: If you’re interested, you can listen to Smt. Vaidehi herself read the poem in this video. The poetry reading begins at 37:12.