Awake-'karunasri' jandhyalaPapayya Sastry

Prince! In the palaces grand
You swing in the flowery swings
In the shadows of the eyes of the queen
thrilled over smiling cheeks of the baby
Open your eyes !
You’ ve slept enough!

Don’t be angry
For disturbing your sleep or
Estranging you from the edge of your love’s of saree
Merge your heart
Not just in your love’s heart
But in ‘Udayasri’ that awakens
The flowers of hearts of folks asleep.

Sweet paradise found in
Your love is not the sole aim
The wretched are crying
Go along with your wife
to wipe out their tears
you could find heavens crores and crores.

Become the Buddha and awaken the sleepy,
Give up your life for elevating peace, love and Dharma
Service to humanity alone leads to enlightenment
Cleanse the world old
In nectarine streams of love and affection.

Arise, awake! and drive the chariot
On the path of peace
Fill the mornings of new life
As the circle of light whole
Tie up the ribbons of welfare
With love as a thread
In the hearts of humanity frail like flower.

While life is throbbing in throat
Stream out tears from the eyes of the lamb
Under the butcher’s sword
Embrace it! Cajole and remove its agony!

The moon of compassion !
Turn this earth into heaven
And halahal ( poison) in to nectar
Rain rasa of love over the world!
While the shine of crown of Ahimsa
Radiate all corners.


MEANINGFULNESS

No desire in our minds
To dance on the heads of gods
Sitting cozily in temples
And receiving worship by priests.

No curiosity in our minds
To lead life of vestige shamelessly
To fill air with powder
And give feasts of nectar to a swarm of bees.

No interest to fade away
Under the brutal humans
Rolling on the beds of flowers
Cozily in chambers private.

No longing to mould fashions
In the hair of ladies
Who remove
And string us into garlands.

No craving to forget ourselves
By turning into garlands made by love
To adorn the necks of lovers
And get crushed in their embraces.

We find merit in
Blossoming in wind gentle on a dawn
And falling and dying
At the feet of mother compassionate .

సత్యకాలపు సూర్యుడా
రాజా !
నిన్ను తలచుకుంటేనే
సత్యయుగంలోని పరిస్థితులు ఎలా ఉంటాయో తెలుస్తున్నది
విహారానికి ప్రశాంతమయిన మునికుటీరాలకు వెళ్ళిన నీవు
ముని దురహంకారానికి గురికావలసి వచ్చినది
ఆడిన మాట తప్పని న్యాయ-సత్య దూతవు నీవు
రాజకీయం తెలియని మహారాజువు నీవు,
ఒక్క శ్రీరాము తప్ప
రాజు లెల్లరు ఎన్నడు వెనుకాడలేదు రెండో వివాహానికి
నీచేత ఒక్క అబద్దం చెప్పించాలని ప్రయత్నించిన
విశ్వామిత్రుని అహంకార, కపటనీతికి లోబడకుండా
సత్య మార్గమున పయనిస్తూ నీరాజ్య సర్వస్వమును వదిలినావు
యజ్ఞానికి నీవిస్తానన్న ధనాన్ని రుణంగా మార్చాడు మునిమహారాజు
ముని ఋణం తీర్చేందుకు మీ రాజదంపతులు
బానిసలుగా అమ్ముడుపోయి దాసిగా, వీరదాసుడిగా మారారు
చనిపోయిన మీ కుమారునితో చివరకు స్మశానంలో కలిసారు
రాజాజ్ఞను నెరవేర్చేందుకు నీ సతీమణి చంద్రమతి శిరచ్చేదమునకు
వెనుకాడని నీవు!
నీ తత్వము మహాద్భుతం, నీ ధర్మము పుణ్యప్రదం
కలియుగంలోంచి చూస్తే సత్యయుగంలోని సూర్యునిలా కనిపిస్తున్నావు
నీ సత్యము ఈ కలియుగంలోని ప్రజలకు కలలా అనిపిస్తున్నది!
---డెక్కా నారాయణ రావు (094062 54194)

Mahakavi Pothana-- 'Karunasri' Jandhyala Papayya Sastry

Is it pen or staff ? staying at home or farm?
Doing poem or cultivation?
Have you sat on cot or bed of straw ?poet or farmer veteran?
Being ambidextrous, do you like pen or plough?

Your palms have turned hard
Due to strain of writing with pen
Or farming with a plough on your shoulder
The angels praise you with eyes open!

Man of hand delicate!
Your book testifies to your heart tender
how did you walk the oxen with a stick
and shove the birds about to sit on crop?

“Believe me, mother! Won’t sell you to those kings heinous”
You said and fortunate enough to cajole,
Wipe the warm tears of eyes of mascara of Vani
Weeping at your threshold.

Gritty not to give your daughter of poetry
To those kings ugly, lame and full of blame
Dedicating your book to Rama
You stuck to profession pure, man of merit!

Plenty are poets dexterous
To use sweet and selective Telugu idioms
Incomparable are you who flowed
the streams of nectarine rasa of devotion on Telugu land?

The withered trunks might have bloomed!
The stones perhaps got thrilled in city of Warangal !
Joy of tears possibly filled eyes of Mother Telugu elated!
Perchance ripened crops in flow nectarine of poetic devotion!


The glow of ear rings of Krishna
Leaping on to Bhisma
The hair untied falling on the back
of Lord rushing to rescue the king of elephants
The looks of love and anger
From the eyes of Satya on battle field
The taste of mango pickle
In the fingers of shepherds eating eagerly rice cold

How did you know!
Which night did you dream!
Painted with brush colourful in manner fine!
Is it a sign of your erudition innate!!


While writing Bhagavatam dear
You might have dipped your pen in sugar
Otherwise, how come those ideas charming
In poems penned on palm leaves?

“Bhagavatam is a fruit fortunate for all Telugus-
Matchless” trumpeted angels in the skies!
Sweet mango juice might have spilled from your pen
When you sat to write!

You rendered superbly
Vyasa’s work in to Telugu
Yours is the first place in poets!
Poems pretty and blissful pour out of your pen!!

Despite other poets prominent
The name ‘Pothana’ melts my heart!
Raises my hands to pay homage!
Does this power magnetic
Lie in his name or pen!?

FLOWERS OF FREEDOM-- 'Karunasri' Jandhyala Papayya Sastry

We want to dwell on
The ways walked on by the holy
Who give up their lives
For peace and Satyagraha.

We desire to smear
The dust of feet of the altruists
Who lose their lives in jails
For the sake of freedom.

We wish to fade away
In the warm sighs of the labour
Starving without even gruel
And clothes to wear.

We yearn to be trodden
Under the wheels of chariot of freedom
Run by the folks on path Indian
While their victorious cries fill the air.

We intend to turn into
a garland around
the neck of Mother India free
and bloom in her tears of joy.

We find merit in
Blossoming in wind gentle on a dawn
And falling and dying
At the feet of mother compassinate .

A soldier's letter -- KARUNASRI

Oh, my dear people, how do you do?
This is my letter to you

From behind the screen of teeth of black death
The birthplace of Triveni
Hard battlefield where swords and guns parade
I am penning this letter from the hills of the North.

The sinners are with passionate intensity
To rout humanity invaluable
The brutes are butchering
Truth ,love and cordiality.

These are not fisticuffs over the border between two
This is a problem pestering and defying peace
To die like a dog anonymously or
To be victorious for life meaningful.

This is no war- execution of Rama’s job
Being awake round the clock- elimination of Mahishasura
Life or death, the banks of Ganges holy
Doing lord’s job- body is bubble momentary.

Why my name brother? I’m a soldier
Son of a widow helpless
Sticking to life somehow in vicissitudes of life
Mother nurtured me in her palms pious.

Narrow gullies, compounds, bullock carts
Small huts a feast to eyes
Crop fields , swaying of crop
Colours of Kalankari decors of skirt of the rustic lass
The shining eyes of the cow bathing in twilight ,
crying ‘ amba’ and licking the calf.

It’s three days
Since I waited in this trench
Raising smoke-exploding bombs-burning fires
Ditches where stretch blue shadows of the angel of death.





Peaceful ambience for a while
What does peace mean in soldier’s slang?
Someone’s cries are piercing my ears
Heard are sounds of beards of the cunning.

In bone-eating cold ,legs and hands are going thick
Blood is thick-eyes hopeless
Moving are warm memories
Time and again
In the heart
Affection cool of mother afar
Sweet innocence of wife dear
Tender lips of toddler that
Smile in chirping of sparrows
Are moving warmly in my heart
Recalled again and again.


Seen are kind eyes of mother
Streaming down are warm tears
Wet are the cheeks of wife consoling the mother
Baby in the lap is swallowing hiccups
Mother’s only prop is the radio of Panchyat office
Lying in a cot today
Looking at star shining in the sky
Her glance is running towards it repeatedly
Let someone tell her to remain bold
And shower her blessings on my head

Mother ! why do you worry?
I am going ahead thinking of you
Ending the cunning
Tearing into pieces
The steel beaks of vultures cruel

Will decorate in your neck
The title of ‘heroic mother’ as a garland
Promise on your breast holy that nurtured me
Holding gun in my hand

If I could return from battle field
And see you my mother
Will salute your feet and kiss your hands
Take the dust at your feet as mark on my forehead
And turn into a hero real
Come mother! Whatever may come
Will never bring dishonor to you.


Who are you! Why are you crying!
Standing beside mother, why shed tears
Like wick of candle burning and melting every second
Like a bunch of small flowers shaken to the cyclonic wind.

A day of disaster, yield not to despair
With sighs of dejection eternal, don’t be depressed
Lose not courage in your heart
And sink in sorrow deep
In this miraculous and holy moment
No streams of tears in a manner unholy.

This is time for prayer and worship
The doors of temple of kali, the mother of world are open
Bring in incense and holy rice
Red flowers bloomed in showers of tears

No, my darling, this is matter of one or two
It’s a time of crisis for the country entire
Hundreds and thousands are marching forward
Giving up their lives in task holy.

Such highest fortune is rare
In one’s life
In my hearts of hearts anguish indefinable
To see you once before my death
To bathe in golden light of pasupu and kumkuma
The lights of your eyes are streams of new life in me
Time for sacrifice but not for thought
Beaten the drum of India victorious
Marched ahead procession of victory

If you have any love for me
Remove the feeling of being orphans
From the hearts of our children courageous
As adults they must move with heads raised
And feel elated of their father’s name.

Woman of compassion! Wipe out your tears!
Overcome your sorrow like a heroine
Fulfillment of duty! A sure moment of hard test!

Woman’s life has been like that
Flames of sorrow in heart
Smiles radiating on lip.
Woman’s life has been like that.


Give harati to my pledge of honour
Uphold and salute for India’s honour
Teach your children how to pay with fire
This is our gift to our children
Confluence of Triveni- prowess, bravery and sacrifice,

I will come back again
Like a smiling and victorious flag

The pledge of Nara, the bearer of Gandiva
Dancing on the ends of my tongue
No going backwards
Forever going forwards

I will certainly bring back
Precious garland of victory
Will sing a song of liberation
For our land under occupation.

See I am burning now
On peaks of hills snow-capped
Burning bright
And bursting darkness dense on moonless nigh.
Sacrificing blood warm like ghee never-ending
One light of India divine and prosperity everlasting.