Two poem the evil owlet and Small and Big

Dear friends,

I made an English rendering to the poem of our great poetess Kuntala Kumari Sabat and revolutionary Odia poet Ravi Singh to enable the U.P students to read it. However, the first translation of the given stanzas is like this.  The friends are requested to give comments and suggestions.

Thanking you all…..

Small and Big
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“If small not shy at all
In case I can grow old,
A full- bloomed flower
Can not blossom,
Only blossoms the bud.

Waxing ever to a pleine lune
I can not grow more beyond,
A full-bloomed flower
Can not blossom,
Only blossoms the bud…’’

[By: KUNTALA KUMARI SABAT]
[English Translation by: SASMITARANI SWAIN ]

The birth centenary of Kuntala Kumari Sabat (1900-1938) passed by, unremembered by the nation.

The neglect in the national memory of one of the foremost crusader women poets of the last century reminds one of Thomas Gray’s elegy about the unsung and unrecognized: “Some village Hamden that with dauntless breast/ the little tyrant of his fields withstood/ some mute inglorious Milton here may rest/ some Cromwell guiltless of his country’s blood…”

With the exception of a modest celebratory function held by Orissa’s Lekhika Sansad and a little souvenir, nothing has been done at the national level to commemorate the saga of this historic woman; nothing that would have matched her achievement. Kuntala Kumari was a radical voice that spoke for the liberation of human spirit. An intensely romantic poet, she wrote some of the immortal verse in Oriya. The mystic strain and her reformative zeal in her poetry at once trace a Blake and a Shelley in her creative persona. It was her passion for social reform that powered her creative writing. She fiercely championed the cause of oppressed masses and repressed womenfolk in a male dominated, feudal India.

THE EVIL OWLET
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How prickly is the ride of life
Undetected is the path,
Breathlessly rowing, I can’t find
The destination of the boat.

Will the bright star rise at dawn
Dispelling the dark night,
The misrule of a tyrant monarchy
Be overthrown by a fight?

No longer will it last
Your misrule,
Your British rule,
in a trice, it will blast
The evil owlet-
I have sounded at last….

[ By: the Odia Revolutionary Poet- RAVI SINGH ]
[ English Translation By: SASMITARANI SWAIN ]