Two topical poems by R Y Deshpande:
The Death of Angiras—an Obituary
His eyes were perfect, but like a blind star
He walked through the long night when were asleep
The skilled gods of time, and the guards who keep
Vigil on swift things, in the lands that are
Priceless and precious, stretching wide and far;
In those realms of gold he saw a huge heap
Of papers and, rather with a snarly leap,
Took hold of them, wonders that had no scar.
One by one all the missed commas were found
And many a word looked quite dubious;
The poet had lost his sense, in a voice bold
He declared to the sleepy world. What ground…?
But the sudden hand of death, furious,
Took away his soul ere it could be sold.
17 April 2009
A village nestled in a ring of hills
And waters came hurrying in a stream,—
It was so until academic mills
Got busy grinding scripts, ream after ream.
Oh these stupid credulous folk! don’t know
Methods of editing texts, how to read
Phrases that are old, blurry, that but show
The author his own promptings failed to heed.
We’re the authentic lot from Yale-Harvard
And the archival sciences, they maintain,
Cannot be disputed be they for the bard
Or for chaps who in the world see no gain.
By now disappeared the small place, the brook,
And the demons of thought its possession took.
20 April 2009