Bhupi Sherchan

Bhupi sherchan 1In the modern Nepali poetry, Bhupi Sherchan is a brilliant personality. Bhupi is one of the most popular and celebrated poets in the modern era as he brought about a new revolution in the genius of Nepali poetry in general and prose poetry in particular. His unique style, forceful expression, simple and lucid language, clear message, sharp attack on the decayed social and cultural practices and high degree of satire have earned a high respect among the Nepali speaking population both at home and abroad.

Bhupi Serchan was born in 1992 B.S. in Thakkhola, Mustang, a remote Himalayan district. His original name given by his parents is Bhupendra Man Sherchan. But he chose Bhupi after he grew up.

His mother died when Bhupi was just a five-year old boy. This incident brought about a big shock in young Bhupi’s mind. Although he was well taken care by other members of his family, Bhupi always missed his mother, which made him rebellious right from his young age.
Bhupi SerchanHe walked up and down on the icy slopes of the mountain in the Himalayan district of Mustang. During his youthful age, Mustang was very backward as no modern facilities were available. The condition of ordinary people was very pitiable. Bhupi’s family was wealthy and he did not have to experience any kind of hardship. But he saw very closely the pains and plights of the poor people who had to shed their blood and sweat from dawn to dusk just for survival. The harsh climatic and geographical conditions made life of the people further worse. Even after working long and hard, the people hardly had two meals a day. He saw extreme poverty, inequality, exploitation, discrimination, torture and trauma of the people in the villages. The poor were getting poorer and the rich richer. The exploitation and discrimination were perennial and unabated. These conditions touched the tender heart of young Bhupi. As a rebellious boy right from the childhood, he then turned to be a revolutionary supporter of the communist ideology. Mustang did not have good schools and colleges and Bhupi’s father sent him to India for higher studies from where he completed Bachelor’s degree. During his stay in Gorakhpur and Benaras of India, he got acquainted with some revolutionary and leftist people. Their company made Bhupi a staunch communist supporter. During those days, communist movements had gained momentum in different parts of the world. In our northern neighbour—China, communist regime had already been established through an armed revolution. Even in India, the communist ideology had attracted many youths. Influenced by the burgeoning communist movement in the world including our neighbours, some Nepali youths had formed a communist party in Nepal, as well. Inspired by the revolutionary spirit among the youths and touched by the perennial poverty and backwardness in Nepal, Bhupi became an active member of the communist party. Some critics are of the opinion that although he was emotionally a communist, his life style never matched the ideology he believed. He was a romantic person and his early life was full of romance. He liked girls, alcohols and friends. When he was drunk he used to become pessimist but once the influence of alcohol was gone his original spirit of revolution and optimism would again revive.

Moreover, the deep rooted poverty, inequality, discrimination and exploitation that had remained in practice for centuries had always disturbed Bhupi’s mind. He was of the belief that emancipation from the chain of poverty, injustice and discrimination could be possible only in the communist system of governance.

He started writing poems in Benaras in course of his active involvement in political activities. In the early days he wrote folk songs and poems in folk verse to express the rebellious and revolutionary feelings that had been deeply rooted in his heart. He also wrote stories and plays. He chose literature as a tool to express his revolutionary and radical feelings.

After completing Bachelor’s level in Benaras, he returned to Kathmandu and roamed around the alleys and gullies of Kathmandu Valley, a wanton boy chasing his dreams. But he failed to get one of his choices. It is this period when he saw the yards of Kathmandu and wrote the poem “My Yard” as the reminiscence of his difficult days. In this poem, he has used imageries and metaphors in an artistic way not only to depict the real situation of that period but also brilliant used satire on the tendency and attitude of the society.

At one point, he found it difficult to survive in Kathmandu as he was nothing to earn his living. He then went outside of the Kathmandu valley to take up his family business. A poet and revolutionary person could hardly be satisfied to work as a construction contractor. When he was in Bhairahawa working as a contractor, he expressed his frustration like this: “When in Kathmandu, I used to count the stars and looked at the attractive damsel’s face; Here I count bricks and look at the beauty of brick dust” He soon quit this business and established a school in Pokhara where he stayed for a long time. Apart from running the school, he got associated with several social organizations and social work. The social work gave a sense of solace to poet Bhupi, to a certain degree.

His first collection of poems ” Naya Jhyaure” was published in 2011 BS which contains mostly folk songs and poems written in folk rhyme. He wrote these poems highly influenced by communist ideology and contained political and communist slogans more than the real poetic justice. According to Ghataraj Bhattarai, the poems in ‘ Naya Jhyaure’ carry more political sloganeering, writer’s anger and fury rather than literary thought.

Bhupi’s second collection of poems is “Nirjhar” in which the poet appears to be more mature. The poems in this book demonstrate Bhupi’s poetic art and understanding. In earlier poems, Bhupi wrote being influenced by political ideology but the poems in his second book have shown that Bhupi wrote the poems from his heart spontaneously expressing his inner feelings in a poetic art. Coming to this stage, Bhupi has been able to do justice to poetry.

In terms of quantity, Bhupi may be considered as one of the writers whose contribution may appear to be less significant. He has written a very few books. But in terms of quality, Bhupi’s contribution in the Nepali literature particularly in the Nepali poetry is no less important than that of any other celebrated and acclaimed writers. He has written a drama called ‘Paribartan’ (Change) and a few short stories. But his dramas and short stories have made little impact on the society and Nepali literature. Although the theme and plot is strong in terms of message, the juxtaposition and development of the plot are weak and not cohesive in the drama ‘Paribartan’. Critics have said that it is more like a political slogan mongering rather than the pure literary art. In the drama, which is full of patriotic and progressive political feelings, he has championed the rights, interests and justice of the common people and unleashed a crusade against exploitation, injustice and discrimination that was in existence in the Nepalese society as a whole. The underlying message in this drama is that justice and truth would ultimately prevail and people’s power would triumph. The book is a testimony that the author wants to bring about progressive political change in the society.

Bhupi’s mastery is in poetry. His real talent and poetic art as well as full maturity are seen in the poems written after 2020 BS. A third collection of poems called “Ghumne Mechmathi Andho Manchhe’ ( A Blind Man on a Revolving Chair) was published in 2025 BS. This book is his literary masterpiece that has proved that Bhupi is an extra ordinary poet. This book contains Bhupi’s 43 poems and every single poem is excellent and brilliant. Although prose poems, they are written in both irregular and free verses. The language is simple, lucid but brilliantly meaningful with full of satire. These poems contain Bhupi’s political ideology but they are presented in a subtle but artistic manner. Through these poems, Bhupi has expressed his anguish against exploitation, and social and cultural discrimination, distortion and contradictions. He has described his poems as the expression of his feelings that gushed out of his heart like the rivers and streams that flow down from the Himalayas as snow melts due to earthly heat. The atmosphere in his surroundings and incidents that happen in the society in the name of social and cultural practices provided him food for thought that came in the form of poems.

The metaphysical conceit in Nepali literature is a borrowed tradition from Sanskrit literature, which was in vogue for long time until Nepali literature entered into a post modern era. With the emergence of Motiram, romantic era began in Nepali literature. The mix of metaphysical conceit and facile romanticism and aestheticism coupled with nihilism and experimentalism were the established tradition in Nepali literature with social and cultural continuum. Bhupi’s era was marked by literary anarchism and ultra liberalism, which was experimented by some of his contemporary poets—an influence of Freudianism and other western free thinkers. But Bhupi kept himself away from this brand of experimentalism, nihilism and anarchism. He chose materialistic, progressive, humanist and existentialist approach.

Gopal Prasad Rimal emerged as a path breaker in the modern era of Nepali literature and established the tradition of writing prose poems with progressive outlook. Bhupi carried this tradition established by Rimal to a newer height especially in the poetic credo. Commenting on Bhupi’s literary genius, critic Govinda Bhatta has said, “at a time when the Nepali poetry was taking the shape of political sloganeering, Bhupi transformed the political sloganeering into a sweetest and brilliant poetic form and enriched the progressive literature in Nepal with classical perfection”. Similarly, Professor Yadunath Khanal has described Bhupi’s poetic quality as “deep and solid expression of feelings and experiences with utmost honesty and civilized manner”.

His poems contain high degree of human values and satire against the existing social system. With Bhupi emerged a new era in Nepali poetic world which came to an end with his death in 2046 BS.

Indian Weavers – Sarojini Naidu

Sarojini Naidu  (13 February 1879 - 2 March 1949 / Hyderabad / India)

Sarojini Naidu
(13 February 1879 – 2 March 1949 / Hyderabad / India)


WEAVERS, weaving at break of day,
Why do you weave a garment so gay? . . .
Blue as the wing of a halcyon wild,
We weave the robes of a new-born child.

Weavers, weaving at fall of night,
Why do you weave a garment so bright? . . .
Like the plumes of a peacock, purple and green,
We weave the marriage-veils of a queen.

Weavers, weaving solemn and still,
What do you weave in the moonlight chill? . . .
White as a feather and white as a cloud,
We weave a dead man’s funeral shroud.

A Rajput Love Song – Sarojini Naidu

Sarojini Naidu (13 February 1879 - 2 March 1949 / Hyderabad / India)

Sarojini Naidu
(13 February 1879 – 2 March 1949 / Hyderabad / India)


(Parvati at her lattice)
O Love! were you a basil-wreath to twine
among my tresses,
A jewelled clasp of shining gold to bind around my sleeve,
O Love! were you the keora’s soul that haunts
my silken raiment,
A bright, vermilion tassel in the girdles that I weave;

O Love! were you the scented fan
that lies upon my pillow,
A sandal lute, or silver lamp that burns before my shrine,
Why should I fear the jealous dawn
that spreads with cruel laughter,
Sad veils of separation between your face and mine?

Haste, O wild-bee hours, to the gardens of the sun set!
Fly, wild-parrot day, to the orchards of the west!
Come, O tender night, with your sweet,
consoling darkness,
And bring me my Beloved to the shelter of my breast!

(Amar Singh in the saddle)
O Love! were you the hooded hawk upon my hand
that flutters,
Its collar-band of gleaming bells atinkle as I ride,
O Love! were you a turban-spray or
floating heron-feather,
The radiant, swift, unconquered sword
that swingeth at my side;

O Love! were you a shield against the
arrows of my foemen,
An amulet of jade against the perils of the way,
How should the drum-beats of the dawn
divide me from your bosom,
Or the union of the midnight be ended with the day?

Haste, O wild-deer hours, to the meadows of the sunset!
Fly, wild stallion day, to the pastures of the west!
Come, O tranquil night, with your soft,
consenting darkness,
And bear me to the fragrance of my Beloved’s breast!

Abortion and Human Rights

The most important issue in balancing individual human rights with social responsibility in my point of view is abortion. The law that was passed so that abortions would be legal was a good decision. The anti-abortions have very sound points, but it should be up to the women to make her choice. Abortion has been debated for decades and always will be.
Ever since Roe vs. Wade, abortion has been a very hot topic. When Jane Roe sued for the right to have an abortion she was pregnant with an unwanted child. In the state of Texas where she lived, she could not find a doctor to perform the abortion because it was against the law. An abortion would only be performed if carrying a baby to full term would threaten the mother’s life. Roe had to have her baby and give it up for adoption. If abortions were legal at that time she would not have to go though such drastic measures. The law should stand that if a woman is seeking an abortion that she would have a safe place for it to be performed and it is legal. Many women have either lost their lives or had many complications for seeking out illegal abortions. By no means should a woman use abortion as a means of birth control, but she should have the right to choose when she brings a life into this world.
Anti-Abortionist believes that it is against the laws of God to have an abortion. If it is against God’s law, then it should between her and God’s if she will receive punishment for her decision. Some think it is still wrong to have an abortion if it threatens the mother’s life. Those who oppose abortions believe that if you don’t want your baby then you can give it up for adoption or kept it because there are organizations that can help you. Giving a child up for adoption is a good route if you don’t want to keep your baby. Sometimes these unwanted children sit in orphanages until they are eighteen. The tax papers are paying for these children. It is it right for society to pay for the mistake of others? I don’t believe so. Everyone has a responsibility to society and should be responsible in society. There are many forms of birth control but none are one hundred percent. So if a woman is in a situation in which she wants to terminate her pregnancy, she should be allowed without people yelling at her that she is a murderer.
Abortion is a very sensitive topic. There will always be controversy surrounding this issue. Having the right to choose should be a basic human right. This ensures that society won’t have to pay for the long term care of unwanted children. If you want to be a responsible citizen in society, you should not do anything that would put a burden on society. If keeping abortions legal is a way of keeping the burden off society then it so be it.

मेरो चोक – भूपी शेरचन

साँघुरो गल्लीमा मेरो चोक छ
यहाँ के छैन? सबथोक छ
असङ्ख्य रोग छ,
केवल हर्ष छैन,
यहा त्यसमाथि रोक छ
साँघुरो गल्लीमा मेरो चोक छ
यहाँ के छैन? सबथोक छ

यो मेरो चोकमा
देवताले बनाएका मानिस र
मानिसले बनाएका देवता,
यी दुबैथरीको निवास छ
तर यहाँ यी दुवैथरी उदास छन्
दुवैथरी निरास छन्
मानिस उदास छन्
किनकी तिनलाइ यहाँ
रात रातभरी उपियाँले टोक्छ
दिन दिनभरी रुपियाँले टोक्छ
र देवता उदास छन्
किनकी तिनलाइ यहाँ
न कसैले पुज्छ न कसैले ढोग्छ
त्यसैले यो चोकमा
देवता र मानिसले
एक अर्कालाई धिक्कार्दै
एकसाथ पुर्पुरो ठोक्छन्
साँघुरो गल्लीमा मेरो चोक छ
यहाँ के छैन? सबथोक छ

भूपी शेरचन

Bhupi sherchan 1

रात काठमाडौँ प्रात – भूपी शेरचन

बाग्मतीपारि स्याल,
र वारि कुकुरहरु कराउँदा
सशङ्कित पोथी कुखुराझैं
घिच्रो तन्काएर
हेर्छन् देवलहरुले
वरिपरिका खोरहरुलाई
पखेटा झारेर
र अन्धकारले तिनलाई डोकोभित्र छोप्छ ।
अज्ञात दुलोबाट निस्केर
डस्छ गोमनले काठमाडौंलाई
र विष सर्दै–सर्दै धरहराको टुप्पोनिर पुग्छ,
गल्लीहरुका नसाभित्र रगत
कालो हुदै जान्छ
एक्कासि अदृश्य कुनै धामीको
मन्त्रमा बाँधिएर
मुग्ध सर्प नयाँ सडक
सल्बलाउँदै आउँछ
आङभरि धामीले फालेका
मन्त्रबद्ध सेता कौडाहरु टाँसेर
र चुस्छ, चुसिरहन्छ रातभरि
बेहोश काठमाडौंको शरीरबाट आफ्नो विष
बल्ल–बल्ल प्रातःमा
चल्मलाउँछ काठमाडौं पीडामय बेहोशीबाट
बिउँझेर
र बोली फुट्छ अनि स्तब्ध धाराहरुको
र हाँस्न थाल्छन् उम्मुक्त झ्याल र ढोकाहरु ।

भूपी शेरचन

bhupi-serchan

घण्टा घर – भूपी शेरचन

कुनै फाटेर
कुनै मुसाले काटेर
कुनै छोरा-नाति
एक-एक गरी
फौजका सब पुराना जर्सी सिद्धिए ।

तर जतनसाथ बचाइराखेको
फौजी जीवनका दुइटा प्रिय चिन्ह
एउटा पुरानो डिजाइनको ठुलो-गोलो जेबघडी
छातीमा झुन्ड्याएर,
अनि एउटा पुरानो टोप शिरमा लाएर
माछा मार्ने निहूँले
बुढेसकालमा लामा
र दिक्दारे दिन बिताउने
एउटा पेन्सिनवाला बूढो लाहुरेझैंँ
रानी पोखरीमा बल्छी हालेर
तटमा उभिएर निरन्तर
झोक्रिरहेछ घण्टाघर ।

भूपी शेरचन

Bhupi sherchan 1

शीत युद्ध कालका बाँदरहरु – भूपी शेरचन

हातमा फोहर लागेका
बाँदर सदा र सर्वत्र
दुर्गन्धले पीडित हुन्छ
सुन्तलाको घारीमा ऊ
दुर्गन्धले निसासिन्छ
गुलाफ फुलेको देख्ता
उसले नाक थुन्छ
दूषित हात उचालेर
आफ्ना अङ्गहरुलाई
बचाउने चेष्टा गर्छ
घृणित स्पर्शबाट आफ्नै हातको
अनि सफलताको चित्कार बोकेर
ऊ वन–वन दगुर्छ
रुख, ढुङ्गा आदिमा हात पुस्छ
खोला नालाको पानीमा हात चोपेर
ऊ मुक्त हुन खोज्छ दुर्गन्धबाट
तर, प्रत्येक प्रयासपछि
हात सुँघ्दा दुर्गन्ध
झन् बढेको पाउँछ
अनि बहुलाझैं
रुख हाँगाहरुका सारा
फलफूलहरु  झार्दै
सुगन्ध र स्वादलाई मेटेर
कम गर्न खोज्दछ आफ्नो
दुर्गन्धको प्रभावलाई
र अन्तमा निराश भएर
कुनै ठाउँमा बसेर ऊ बर्बतापूर्वक
घोट्न थाल्छ आफ्नो  हात
खस्रोढुङ्गामाथि
उसले ढुङ्गामा हात घोट्छ र सुँघ्छ
उसले आफ्नो हात सुघ्छ  र घोट्न
थाल्छ र घोटि नै रहन्छ
तबसम्म
जबसम्म कि उसको हात बेकम्मा हुँदैन
शङकालु बाँदरको जब एकचोटि
हात गन्हाउँछ
उसले बगैंचालाई उजाड
र आफ्नो हातलाई लुला बनाउँछ ।

भूपी शेरचन

Bhupi sherchan 1

कविता – स्वतन्त्रता हो मानवता रे – लक्ष्मी प्रसाद देवकोटा

लक्ष्मी प्रसाद देवकोटा Nov 12, 1909 – Sept 14, 1959

लक्ष्मी प्रसाद देवकोटा
Nov 12, 1909 – Sept 14, 1959


स्वतन्त्रता हो मानवता रे !
घाम यही हो, कुइरो धनमा लाग्छ कहाँ र पता रे ?
कुइराका सब काकहरु पनि बोल्छन् यसकै कथा रे !
सिक्रीका पनि पशुहरु भन्छन्ः “आजाद सबै छौँ सदा रे !”
धेरै बोल्छन्, थोरले बुझ्दछ,
दासता हो मानव चिता रे !
स्वतन्त्रता हो मानवता रे !
युग युग कोटी मानव उडेथे लाउन यसको पता रे !
तर यति मसिनो यो छ उज्यालो, भूमा स्वर्ग ज्यथा रे !
सूनसान नै यसको बाटो
झर्छ जहाँ छ मरमिट माटो,
ममता यसको समतासँगमा
ढाक्दछ जागृत जनता रे !
स्वतन्त्रता हो मानवता रे !
मिथ्या पूजन गर्छ निरन्तर यसको शोषण प्रथा रे !
वर्गस्वार्थले यसको अर्थ विकृत पारे, बटारे !
मानव मानवप्रति जब मानव हुन्न, हुँदैन पता रे !
सन्तुलनमा ताराहरुको झल्क्यो पहिले यता रे !
स्वतन्त्रता हो मानवता रे !
खिच्दछ नरले नर–वानरझैं फन्को लगाई गलामा,
किन्दछ मानिस मानिसलाई चतुर बनेर कलामा,
बायाँ करमा रोटी समाऊ, दायाँ करमा तरबार,
भोको उदरले भगवान् बोल्दछु,, काँप्दो मुटुले अवतार ।
व्यक्ति, विचार छ अर्थ स्थितिमा नित्य अवस्थित क्यारे !
अदृश्य जानी हाल्छ फटा’ रे !
स्वतन्त्रता हो मानवता रे !
कब्जे तिमीले शस्त्र र औजार, कल र कोदाली कुटा रे !
भोक र रोगले दुनियाँ मुठीमा पिस्छौँ मुष्टि बटारे ।
समष्टिका हक व्यष्टिले टारे पाउँछ कसले था’रे !
स्वतन्त्रताको सच्चा मुटु तर समता, मानवता रे !
स्वतन्त्रता हो मानवता रे !

कविता – पोखरा – लक्ष्मी प्रसाद देवकोटा

लक्ष्मी प्रसाद देवकोटा  Nov 12, 1909 – Sept 14, 1959

लक्ष्मी प्रसाद देवकोटा
Nov 12, 1909 – Sept 14, 1959


माछापुच्छे!’हिमशिखरको बादशा’ पोखराली !
देखेँ तिमै्र वरपर सबै पश्चिमा राज्य खालि !
डाँडाकाडाँ वन नद दरी सम्थली औ कराली
साराका छौ प्रभु सरि तिमी दिव्य श्रीपेच डाली !

राजा ! तिम्रो बगल महिषी अन्नपूर्णा हिमाल
नीला गादी उपर डटिँदा हुन्छ शोभा कमाल !
राजारानी ! हृदय कविको तृप्त कैल्यै हुँदैन !
नेपालीले हुकुम दुईको छातिले बिसर्िदैन !

हाम्रो राष्ट्र प्रकृति रचना छन् प्रधानै हिमाल !
चूली राजा बहुविध जहाँ सत्यका नीतिपाल !
सेतो छापा सकल दिलमा पर्छ आदेश सार !
हाम्रै हाम्रै प्रकृतिसँगमा मन्त्र मीठो बहार !

सान्दर्यैको चलपल हुँदो पोखरीझैँ छ देश !
थुम्काथुम्की सरस हरिया राखिए बेस बेस !
माछामाछी सदृश दुनियाँ क्यै सुनौला रँगिन !
सेतो माछो प्रमुख पुछेर, राज गर्दो छ मीन !

डुङ्गा शायद् यस शिखरमा सृष्टिको बाँधिएथ्यो !
शायद् चीरा यिन गिरिविषे चक्रले काटिएथ्यो !
मान्छेको हो प्रथम सृजना कल्पिएका यिनैले !
पैला शक्ति प्रकृत अझ छन् लुीलिँदा देख्छु मैले !

कल्ले शिल्प्यो अवनितल यो लाख बुट्टा कुँदेर?
शोभाको यो घर अजमियो पोखरा नाम हेर!
पन्ना झुक्यो चपल सरितालाई दी नागबेली?
डाँफे रङ्ग्यो? चिरबिर भर्यो? छिर्बिराएर बेली?

स्रष्टा यी हुन् यस जगतका विष्णु लक्ष्मी समान !
साथै बस्छन् शुचिकर महान् उच्चतामा सुवान !
भाले पोथी प्रतिम सकल सृष्टिका प्रीति जोडी !
छाती फुल्दै दरशन गरी उभ्भिएँ हात जोडी !

छर्लङ्गै छन् वरपर दिशा नीलिमा मुस्किँदी छ !
हावा उड्दा हरर वनकी श्री खिची जिस्किँदी छ !
टड्कारो यो शिखर हिउँको क्या उठेरै चिहायो !
कल्लाई ए युवती ! जलमा फूल फ्याँक्छयौ त्यहाँ त्यो !

तिम्रा आँखा यस गगनका प्रीतिका तारका ती !
लाल्पातेझैँ तन रस भए भूमिका भारका ती !
हावा तिम्रो मन गिरिसुता ! व्योमले नील नानी !
सेतो छाला तुहिन जसमा रश्मि चढ्छिन् बिहानी !

कोही यौटा पुरुष-सपना टाकुराको प्रदान
पाई राती शिखर प्रतिभालाई यो पुष्पदान !
गर्दी छौ के प्रथम दिलको सत्प्रतिज्ञा उचाली
सेतो प्रीति प्रकृत हिउँझैँ थाह भै आज खालि

हो, हो, यो हो, मिथुनरसको गीति गुँज्ने प्रदेश !
डाँफे डाँफी नवरँग बुटे कल्पना कूँज देश !
मीठो चूली वयस-रसको गीति-खोला-मुहान !
बोल्दा भन्दा अमुखर तिमी गीति छौ दिव्य जान !
दोटा कोही यिन शिखरमा सुन्छु खेल्दा जुहारे
बेनामी छन् ! मिरमिर कहीँ अर्थ खुल्दो छ क्यारे !
लीला खेलौँ तरल उछलौँ चिल्बिले हौँ बनेली !
हाम्फालूँ क्यै ! खुसखुस गरौँ ! सुस्तियौँ ! भन्दछन् ती !

दोटा खेल्दा समुह धरती बन्दछिन् यी हरीलो
आली-खोला वन-खलबला धोबिनी भै सुरीली !
चाँदीपत्ती जलदचयकी छाउनी चल्न थाली
वर्षा वर्षी दिल उपर भो कल्पनाच्छाद-जाली !

लक्ष्मी ! लामा लहलह हुँदा फाँटका स्वर्णभार
तिमै्र माया वरपर कुदी बेलिँदा भै तयार
साँचेका यी हँसमुख मिठा बन्धुकी पोखराली
रानी बन्छयौ प्रकृत अभिधा अन्नपूर्णा हिमाली !

नामै मीठो ! शरद रजनीले थिइन् यो कहेकी !
सेतीद्धारा सलिल छिनु ली जो यहाँ छन् बहेकी !
भनछन् चूली जसरि चुलियो उत्तिकै हुन्छ बाली !
बाली काट्दा हँसमुख तिमी मुस्किँदप् हौ उज्याली !

द्यौता बस्ने वरपर सभा गोलझै क्यै त्यहाँ छ !
खोदेको झैं हिउँ अलिकता आसनी झैं जहाँ छ !
सल्ला’ होला सुरवर बसी काजमा पोखराली !
सच्चा नीति प्रकृत कसरी चालिएली उज्याली !

माछापुच्छे!यस जगतको सभ्यता शुभ्र कान्ति !
शिल्पै मीठो ! युवति सुकला ! दिव्य सन्देश शान्ति !
चट्टानै छन् युवक महिमा ! छन् नदी काव्य-दान !
नेपालीको रस-मुटु यही भारतीको मुहान !

नेपालीको प्रथम कविता छैन यसबाट दूर !
यो पानीको प्रथम गतिको गीति हो विश्वनेर !
यो भूस्वर्ग प्रकृति रचित प्रौढ सम्भावनामा
होला यात्रास्थल रसिकको विश्वमा फस्टिँदामा !

फेवामा गै प्रतिदिन यहीँ सम्झना ली डुबुल्की
बिसे्रली यो कलह जगको मत्स्यको पुच्छ झल्की
नीलो होला ज्वर समरको, चट्ट सुस्केरिएर
सम्झे ताराजडित जलको शान्तिको कान्ति हेर !

ओढीछन् लौ अब त बदली अन्नपूर्णा लुकेर !
माछापुच्छ्रे अलि अलि टुपो देखियो मिर्मिरेर !
झस्काएका मकन दिलमा झ्वास्स आएर आज !
लौ ! लौ छोपे मुख दुइ जना बल्ल लागेछ लाज !

मुटुको हरेक नशामा – भैरवनाथ रिमाल

मुटुको हरेक नशामा तातो साहस उमाली
प्रण गर्छौ सदा देशको निम्ति एक भै नेपाली
एक भै नेपाली

माटो र ढुंगा, बाहु र बलले सम्हाली राख्दछौं
गौरव गाथा वीरको नाता झन् उच्च राख्दछौं
हिमगिरी छर्छन् सदैब सुन्दर शान्तिको सुवास
नेपाली जाती हुदैन कहिले अल्छी र उदासी

हिमाल मेरो विशाल चुलि नदेख्ने को छ र?
यो कर्मभूमि बुद्धको जन्म बिर्सने को छ र?
नेपाली आत्मा सम्पूर्ण बोल्छ विश्वको कण-कणमा
पहारा गर्छौ धैर्य ले हामी दिएर सम्मान

लाग्न थाल्यो जीवनमा – भैरबनाथ रिमाल

लाग्न थाल्यो जीवनमा मेरो कथा यस्तो
फक्रिएर वसन्तमा झर्ने फूल जस्तो

आफू खोज्छु बिर्सिदिन गहराइबाट
बिपनामा बिर्से पनि सपनीमा आउँछ याद
मुटु मेरो जलाइदिने उनको बानी कस्तो
फक्रिएर वसन्तमा झर्ने फूल जस्तो

भनिदेऊ अझैं पनि केही थाहा भए
पोखिदेऊ अझैं पनि मुटुभित्र चाह भए
सम्झिल्याउँदा पत्थर जस्तो दिल रैछ कस्तो
फक्रिएर वसन्तमा झर्ने फूल जस्तो

तिम्रो सिउँदो सजाइदिने मेरो एउटै धोको – भैरबनाथ रिमाल

तिम्रो सिउँदो सजाइदिने मेरो एउटै धोको
तिमीप्रति चाहना जुन मेरो सधैं चोखो

मेरो दिल नै उपहार तिमीलाई दिइसकें
बासी इच्छा नठानिदेऊ मैले चाहिसकें
मेरो व्यथा कथा बन्छ लहरा भै गीतको
ओइलिएको शीतलाई नि चाह हुन्छ शीतको
सपनामा सागर बन्छ अनेक यादमा कल्पी
जिउनु पर्ने जिन्दगीमा आशै आसमा अल्झी
पन्छिनदेऊ बहारसँग फूल भै हामी फुलौं
सून्यसँग नहराऔं हामी एक भै भुलौं

जुन फूल मैले चाहेको थिएँ – भैरबनाथ रिमाल

जुन फूल मैले चाहेको थिएँ कसैले टिपेछ
सौन्दर्य भने यो सधैं मेरो आँखामा लुकेछ

सुख र दुख सँगाली दिन जीवनमा त्यै थियो
दिनरात अब मदेखि टाढा भएर गै दियो
बिरानु बनी प्रतिपल मेरो यो मुटु धड्किन्छ
बितेका तिनै पुराना कथा सम्झाई तड्पिन्छ
बाँची नै रह्यो केवल चाह मुटुमा चोट पारी
त्यो मेरो थियो स्नेहको दियो मनको हितकारी
चर्केको माया जोडिदिने फेरि वस्तु नै के छ र?
मनमा रह्यो विरह व्यथा भन्नु नै के छ र?

कान्तिपुरी नगरी – भानु भक्त आचार्य

चपला अवलाहरु एक सुरमा
गुनकेसरीको फूल ली शिरमा
हिंड्न्या सखि लीकन ओरिपरी
अमरावती कान्तिपुरी नगरी ।।१।।
यति छन् भनि गन्नु कहाँ धनियाँ ।
सुखी छन् मनमा बहुतै दुनियाँ
जनकी यसरी सुखकी सगरी
अलकापुरी कान्तिपुरी नगरी ।।२।।
कहिँ कालभरी गल्लि छ दिल्ली सरी ।
कहिँ भोट र लण्डन चीन सरी
लखनौ पटना मदरास सरी
अलकापुरी कान्तिपुरी नगरी ।।३।।
तरवार कतार खुडाँ खुकुरी
पिस्तोल र वन्दुक सम्म भिरी ।
आतिसुर र वीर भरि नगरी
छ त कुन सरी कान्तिपुरी नगरी ।।४।।
रिस राग कपट छैन यहाँ
तब धर्म कति छ कति छ यहाँ ।
पशुका पति छन् रखवारी गरी
शिवकी पुरी कान्तिपुरी नगरी ।।५।।

भानु भक्त आचार्य

bhanubhakta-acharya-x300

 

English Poem – I Knew A Man By Sight – Henry David Thoreau

I Knew A Man By Sight
I knew a man by sight,
A blameless wight,
Who, for a year or more,
Had daily passed my door,
Yet converse none had had with him.

I met him in a lane,
Him and his cane,
About three miles from home,
Where I had chanced to roam,
And volumes stared at him, and he at me.

In a more distant place
I glimpsed his face,
And bowed instinctively;
Starting he bowed to me,
Bowed simultaneously, and passed along.

Next, in a foreign land
I grasped his hand,
And had a social chat,
About this thing and that,
As I had known him well a thousand years.

Late in a wilderness
I shared his mess,
For he had hardships seen,
And I a wanderer been;
He was my bosom friend, and I was his.

And as, methinks, shall all,
Both great and small,
That ever lived on earth,
Early or late their birth,
Stranger and foe, one day each other know.

Henry David Thoreau

486px-Henry_David_Thoreau

 

English Poem – Friendship – Friedrich Schiller

Friend!–the Great Ruler, easily content,
Needs not the laws it has laborious been
The task of small professors to invent;
A single wheel impels the whole machine
Matter and spirit;–yea, that simple law,
Pervading nature, which our Newton saw.

This taught the spheres, slaves to one golden rein,
Their radiant labyrinths to weave around
Creation’s mighty hearts: this made the chain,
Which into interwoven systems bound
All spirits streaming to the spiritual sun
As brooks that ever into ocean run!

Did not the same strong mainspring urge and guide
Our hearts to meet in love’s eternal bond?
Linked to thine arm, O Raphael, by thy side
Might I aspire to reach to souls beyond
Our earth, and bid the bright ambition go
To that perfection which the angels know!

Happy, O happy–I have found thee–I
Have out of millions found thee, and embraced;
Thou, out of millions, mine!–Let earth and sky
Return to darkness, and the antique waste–
To chaos shocked, let warring atoms be,
Still shall each heart unto the other flee!

Do I not find within thy radiant eyes
Fairer reflections of all joys most fair?
In thee I marvel at myself–the dyes
Of lovely earth seem lovelier painted there,
And in the bright looks of the friend is given
A heavenlier mirror even of the heaven!

Sadness casts off its load, and gayly goes
From the intolerant storm to rest awhile,
In love’s true heart, sure haven of repose;
Does not pain’s veriest transports learn to smile
From that bright eloquence affection gave
To friendly looks?–there, finds not pain a grave?

In all creation did I stand alone,
Still to the rocks my dreams a soul should find,
Mine arms should wreathe themselves around the stone,
My griefs should feel a listener in the wind;
My joy–its echo in the caves should be!
Fool, if ye will–Fool, for sweet sympathy!

We are dead groups of matter when we hate;
But when we love we are as gods!–Unto
The gentle fetters yearning, through each state
And shade of being multiform, and through
All countless spirits (save of all the sire)–
Moves, breathes, and blends, the one divine desire.

Lo! arm in arm, through every upward grade,
From the rude mongrel to the starry Greek,
Who the fine link between the mortal made,
And heaven’s last seraph–everywhere we seek
Union and bond–till in one sea sublime
Of love be merged all measure and all time!

Friendless ruled God His solitary sky;
He felt the want, and therefore souls were made,
The blessed mirrors of his bliss!–His eye
No equal in His loftiest works surveyed;
And from the source whence souls are quickened, He
Called His companion forth–ETERNITY!

Friedrich Schiller

friedrich-schiller-540x540 (1)

नेपाली कविता – वसंत गीत – गोपाल सिंह नेपाली

ओ मृगनैनी, ओ पिक बैनी,
तेरे सामने बाँसुरिया झूठी है!
रग-रग में इतना रंग भरा,
कि रंगीन चुनरिया झूठी है!

मुख भी तेरा इतना गोरा,
बिना चाँद का है पूनम!
है दरस-परस इतना शीतल,
शरीर नहीं है शबनम!
अलकें-पलकें इतनी काली,
घनश्याम बदरिया झूठी है!

रग-रग में इतना रंग भरा,
कि रंगीन चुनरिया झूठी ह !
क्या होड़ करें चन्दा तेरी,
काली सूरत धब्बे वाली!
कहने को जग को भला-बुरा,
तू हँसती और लजाती!
मौसम सच्चा तू सच्ची है,
यह सकल बदरिया झूठी है!

रग-रग में इतना रंग भरा,
कि रंगीन चुनरिया झूठी है!

गोपाल सिंह नेपाली
gopal nepali

English Poem – Please Forever Keep On Smiling – Rohit Sapra

When I was lost you showed me the way
You showed me the way, towards something known as hope.
Whenever I cried, you made me smile so much
How can I ever thank you enough?
Not even thanks can make up for it
As you became the guiding angel of my life
Showed me just the exact way, so I do not get lost again and again
How can I ever say thanks to you?
You made me smile, when I cried so much
Almost, ended up ripping my soul apart
You stitched my soul back together
To make it as whole
You showed me the path towards heaven, by saving this suffering soul
You showed me the right path and saved me from sinking into death
You are the guiding angel, please forever keep on smiling.

English Poem – Song of Nature – Ralph Waldo Emerson

Mine are the night and morning,
The pits of air, the gulf of space,
The sportive sun, the gibbous moon,
The innumerable days.

I hid in the solar glory,
I am dumb in the pealing song,
I rest on the pitch of the torrent,
In slumber I am strong.

No numbers have counted my tallies,
No tribes my house can fill,
I sit by the shining Fount of Life,
And pour the deluge still;

And ever by delicate powers
Gathering along the centuries
From race on race the rarest flowers,
My wreath shall nothing miss.

And many a thousand summers
My apples ripened well,
And light from meliorating stars
With firmer glory fell.

I wrote the past in characters
Of rock and fire the scroll,
The building in the coral sea,
The planting of the coal.

And thefts from satellites and rings
And broken stars I drew,
And out of spent and aged things
I formed the world anew;

What time the gods kept carnival,
Tricked out in star and flower,
And in cramp elf and saurian forms
They swathed their too much power.

Time and Thought were my surveyors,
They laid their courses well,
They boiled the sea, and baked the layers
Or granite, marl, and shell.

But he, the man-child glorious,–
Where tarries he the while?
The rainbow shines his harbinger,
The sunset gleams his smile.

My boreal lights leap upward,
Forthright my planets roll,
And still the man-child is not born,
The summit of the whole.

Must time and tide forever run?
Will never my winds go sleep in the west?
Will never my wheels which whirl the sun
And satellites have rest?

Too much of donning and doffing,
Too slow the rainbow fades,
I weary of my robe of snow,
My leaves and my cascades;

I tire of globes and races,
Too long the game is played;
What without him is summer’s pomp,
Or winter’s frozen shade?

I travail in pain for him,
My creatures travail and wait;
His couriers come by squadrons,
He comes not to the gate.

Twice I have moulded an image,
And thrice outstretched my hand,
Made one of day, and one of night,
And one of the salt sea-sand.

One in a Judaean manger,
And one by Avon stream,
One over against the mouths of Nile,
And one in the Academe.

I moulded kings and saviours,
And bards o’er kings to rule;–
But fell the starry influence short,
The cup was never full.

Yet whirl the glowing wheels once more,
And mix the bowl again;
Seethe, fate! the ancient elements,
Heat, cold, wet, dry, and peace, and pain.

Let war and trade and creeds and song
Blend, ripen race on race,
The sunburnt world a man shall breed
Of all the zones, and countless days.

No ray is dimmed, no atom worn,
My oldest force is good as new,
And the fresh rose on yonder thorn
Gives back the bending heavens in dew.

Ralph Waldo Emerson

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English Poem – As I Grew Old – Langston Hughes

It was a long time ago.
I have almost forgotten my dream.
But it was there then,
In front of me,
Bright like a sun—
My dream.
And then the wall rose,
Rose slowly,
Slowly,
Between me and my dream.
Rose until it touched the sky—
The wall.
Shadow.
I am black.
I lie down in the shadow.
No longer the light of my dream before me,
Above me.
Only the thick wall.
Only the shadow.
My hands!
My dark hands!
Break through the wall!
Find my dream!
Help me to shatter this darkness,
To smash this night,
To break this shadow
Into a thousand lights of sun,
Into a thousand whirling dreams
Of sun!
Langston Hughes

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यतिसम्म प्रीति गरी – मोतीराम भट्ट

यति सम्म प्रीति गरी गरी न यता भयें न उता भयें,
नत मन् लियें नत दीदियें न यता भयें न उता भयें ।

नत होस् वासकि राखियो नत फूलको रस चाखियो,
नत याद भो नत स्वाद भो, न यता भयें न उता भयें ।

बिनु औसरै सित भेट्नू तरबार लीकन रेट्नू,
नत छिन्दिनू, नत नछिन्दिनू, न यता भयें न उता भयें ।

नत साथ बस्न सँगी भयें नत दुस्मनै सरि भै गएँ
न पुरानियाँ नत मो नयाँ न यता भयें न उता भयें ।

नत खुस् भईकन प्रेम् गरी तन रिस् गरी कन मन् हरी
न यसो गरी न उसो गरी न यता भएँ न उता भयें ।

मोतीराम भट्ट

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यता हेर्‍यो यतै मेरा – मोतीराम भट्ट

यता हेर्‍यो यतै मेरा नजर्मा राम प्यारा छन्
उता हेर्‍यो उतै मेरा नजर्मा राम प्यारा छन् ।

यसो भन्छौ त फल्फुल्मा उसो भन्छौ त जल्थल्मा
जता हेर्‍यो उतै मेरा, नजर्मा राम प्यारा छन् ।

त्रिलोक चौधै भुवन् माहाँ प्रभु प्यापक जहाँ ताहाँ
कहाँ सम्मन भनूँ याहाँ सबैमा राम प्यारा छन् ।
रसीलो रामको नाउ भजन् तिन्को सधैं गाउ,
दरस्मो हर्बखत पाउ दयालू राम प्यारा छन् ।

पियारा भै हरी मेरा सधैं मन्मा रहुन् डेरा,
सबै संसारले भन्छन् र मातीराम प्यारा छन् ।

मोतीराम भट्ट

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English Poem – To Be A Woman – Hafiz Qasim

What is it to be a woman
Flashy light is to be a woman
Dandy gloss is to be a woman
Night and day is to be woman
Ripened fruit is to be a woman
Fairy tale is to be woman
Jasmine scent is to be woman
Rubicund mystique is to be woman
Orchid grain is to be a woman
Fleeting glance is to be a woman
Smiling feat is to be a woman
Hide and seek is to be a woman
Echoing green is to be a woman
Dandy dame is to be a woman
Rose and fig is to be a woman
Life and death is to be a woman
Bliss and grist is to be a woman
Glistening glide is to be a woman
Prettiest pearl is to be a woman
Life and blood is to be a woman
Sunniest scent is to be a woman
Handsome dream is to be a woman
Molded clay is to be a woman
What is it to be a woman
Liking lily is to be a woman
Pulpy fruit is to be a woman
All the crest is to be a woman
Dawn and dusk is to be a woman
Adam’s nurse is to be a woman
Hall of fame is to be a woman
Pushy aim is to be a woman
Comely face is to be a woman
Leave me not is to be a woman
Rising storm is to be a woman
Searching-soul is to be a woman
Materfamilias is to be a woman
Reverend mother is to be a woman
Nation’s fate is to be a woman
Tranquil vale is to be a woman
What is it to be a woman
Smart and hit is to be a woman
All the hit is to be a woman
Rising storm is to be a woman
Healing plant is to be a woman
Norm and form is to be a woman
Foam and fume is to be a woman
Tug of war is to be a woman
House and hold is to be a woman
Nicely told is to be a woman
Horse of hope is to be a woman

English Poem – Love – Hafiz Quasim

Love everything and love the love you love

Love is a word an incomparable anticipation
love is a mockery having wings to fly
Love is decorum of truth the legacy of attention
Love is not concocted story or a piece of bun
Love is what you are
what you do the whole nook of function
Let this love never stop in its infinite motion
Love is beauty for eternal one’s and ailment for an alien
Love is sombre of truth and desire nonetheless mitigation
Love is so on and so forth love is being and becoming
Love is genre of onerous charm and sea’s combustion
Love is holistic it is winsome will of norm
Love is bird’s chirping
love a clandestine click of commotion

English Poem – A Winter Nights – Robert Burns

When biting Boreas, fell and doure,
Sharp shivers thro’ the leafless bow’r;
When Phoebus gies a short-liv’d glow’r,
Far south the lift,
Dim-dark’ning thro’ the flaky show’r,
Or whirling drift:

Ae night the storm the steeples rocked,
Poor Labour sweet in sleep was locked,
While burns, wi’ snawy wreeths upchoked,
Wild-eddying swirl,
Or thro’ the mining outlet bocked,
Down headlong hurl.

List’ning, the doors an’ winnocks rattle,
I thought me on the ourie cattle,
Or silly sheep, wha bide this brattle
O’ winter war,
And thro’ the drift, deep-lairing, sprattle,
Beneath a scar.

Ilk happing bird, wee, helpless thing!
That, in the merry months o’ spring,
Delighted me to hear thee sing,
What comes o’ thee?
Whare wilt thou cow’r thy chittering wing
An’ close thy e’e?

Ev’n you on murd’ring errands toil’d,
Lone from your savage homes exil’d,
The blood-stain’d roost, and sheep-cote spoil’d
My heart forgets,
While pityless the tempest wild
Sore on you beats.
Robert Burns

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English Poem – A Red, Red Rose – Robert Burns

O my Luve’s like a red, red rose
That’s newly sprung in June;
O my Luve’s like the melodie
That’s sweetly play’d in tune.

As fair art thou, my bonnie lass,
So deep in luve am I:
And I will luve thee still, my dear,
Till a’ the seas gang dry:

Till a’ the seas gang dry, my dear,
And the rocks melt wi’ the sun:
I will luve thee still, my dear,
While the sands o’ life shall run.

And fare thee well, my only Luve
And fare thee well, a while!
And I will come again, my Luve,
Tho’ it were ten thousand mile.

Robert Burns

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English Poem – True Love – Lucy Vernezze

We’ve been together 60 years now. I know you through and through. It’s kinda like we’re transparent to each other. No one knows me like you do.

You’ll answer all my questions, and i’ll tell you of my fears. We fit perfect like a glove. We always have right through the years.

We’ve been stuck together like glue for most of our lives. Yes we’ve had our ups and downs, and we’ve had our rough times.

But you are like my Bible. Yes you are my survival. I can’t say it any clearer, your my life.

Love from your wife Xxx

मजाक, सत्ता राजनीतिको

नेतृत्वको सरकारलाई समर्थन गर्ने २१ दलले यो सरकारको चिरायुको कामना गरेका छन् तर मजाक 164 स्वयं एमाले भित्रको एउटा पङ्तीले माधवकुमार नेपाल प्रधानमन्त्री भएको सरकारका विरूद्धमा हस्ताक्षर अभियान संचालन गरेर एउटा तलवार उठाएको छ, जुन तलवारका कारण माधव नेपाल प्रधानमन्त्री भएको सरकारको आयुमा कम्पन पैदा भएको छ। अन्य समर्थक दलहरूले एकोहोरो सरकारलाई टेको लगाइरहनु तर आफ्नै दलबाट टेको भत्काउन तलवार उठ्नु प्रधानमन्त्री माधव नेपालका लागि पार्टी भित्रको सानो हाँक होइन।
वर्तमान सरकार समर्थक गैर एमाले दलहरूको अडानका कारण सरकार ढाल्न संसदमा ३०१ जनमत बटुल्न असफल भएपछि माधव नेपाललाई हटाएर आफ्नो नेतृत्वमा सरकार निर्माण भएमा मात्र शान्ति प्रक्रिया तार्कित निष्कर्षमा पुग्ने र संविधान पनि समयमा आउन सक्ने प्रचन्डको अभिव्यक्ति “थेगो” भइसकेको छ। यसरी आफ्नो नेतृत्वमा सरकार नबनेमा संविधान नबन्ने र शान्ति प्रक्रिया पनि तार्किक निष्कर्षमा नपुग्ने माओवादी ढिपी संवैधानिक प्रक्रिया विधि र वैधानिक संसदीय सत्ता संघर्षका विरूद्धको ठूलो हाँक हो। इतिहासको मजाक 164 माओवादीको यो हाँकबाट सबभन्दा कायल अरू कोही नभएर एमाले पो भएको छ।
हाम्रो मुलुकमा संविधानसभाको चुनाव र गणतन्त्रको स्थापना भएको छ, यी साना उपलब्धी होइनन् तर मुलुक संसदीय विधि, प्रक्रिया र तथा “ल एन्ड अडर”का आधारमा होइन शान्ति र भागवन्डाका आधारमा मुलुक चलिरहेको छ। यसरी एकातिर मुलुक सिद्धान्त लोकतान्त्रिक गणतन्त्रमय हुनु अर्कोतिर व्यवहारतः सिमित प्रजातान्त्रिक विधि प्रक्रिया र संस्कार समेत ध्वस्त हुनुले मुलुकको तस्विरलाई थप राजनीतिक संकटको घेरामा धकेलेको छ। यो संकट सक्रमणकालको व्यवस्थापन गर्ने र मुलुकलाई अग्रगामी परिपाटीतिर लैजाने अभियानका विरूद्धको ग्रहण हो। यस कुरामा विमति राख्ने ठाउँ छैन।
प्रचन्ड देशको सबभन्दा ठूलो दलका ठूला नेता हुन् भन्ने कुरा सत्य हो। तर लोकतान्त्रिक संस्कार र पद्धतिलाई भन्दा शक्ति र मुढेबललाई प्राथमिकतामा राख्ने र एउटा नागरिक पार्टीको भूमिकामा रहन नसक्ने माओवादीको नेतृत्वमा सरकार बन्यो भने त्यो सरकारले लोकतान्त्रिक विधि र संस्कारको जग बसाल्ला कि नव अधिनायकवादको? मुलुकका अगाडि उपस्थित यो गम्भीर प्रश्न हो त्यसकारण माधव नेपाल सरकारको विकल्पमा माओवादी नेतृत्वको सरकार स्थापना भयो भने त्यो सरकार लोकतान्त्रिक प्रणाली र सिंगो मुलुकका लागि महंगो वा गलत प्रयोग हुन सक्ने खतरा पनि हाम्रा अगाडि छ। त्यसकारण एमाले नै आफ्नो नेतृत्वको सरकार ढालेर माओवादीको नेतृत्वको सरकातर्फ उद्धत भयो र परिणाम गलत भयो भने यसको जवाफ इतिहासले एमालेसित माग्ने छ।
तर यो कुरामा पनि विमति छैन, कि वर्तमान सरकार अंशवन्डा ठेक्कापठ्ठा, भागवन्डा र भ्रष्टाचारलाई संस्थागत गर्ने गन्धा खेलहरूमा सक्रिय रहँदै आएको छ। मेसिन रिडेबल र पासपोर्ट ठेक्का प्रकरणको सन्दर्भ पछिल्लो र ताजा उदाहरण हो। सरकारले “यो काम राम्रो गर्‍यो” भनेर उदाहरण दिन मुस्किल पर्दछ तर पनि सत्ता परिवर्तन पछाडिको मार्गदर्शन के हुने भन्ने जवाफ सरकार ढालौं भन्नेहरूसँग छैन। माओवादीका राजनीतिक मात्र होइन अब पूर्वमा जातीय अर्धसैनिक दस्ता च्याउ जस्तै उम्रेका छन्। पैसा पाएपछि अपराध शास्त्रलाई मानव शास्त्र बनाउने माओवादी अझै पनि फरक मतका विरूद्ध भालु झै जाइलाग्छ, त्यसो त अझै माओवादीको नेतृत्वमा शान्ति र संविधान निर्माण हुन्छ भनेर भर पर्न सकिंदैन।
संवैधानिक समितिले संविधानको सामान्य प्रारूप तयार पार्न सम्म नसकिरहेको र संविधान निर्माण भन्दा सत्ता संघर्ष प्रधान बनिरहेको एउटा विषम परिस्थितिमा पनि एमाले काँग्रेस र माओवादीका नेताहरूले तोकिएको समयमा संविधान घोषणा गर्दछौं भनेर जसरी प्रतिवद्धता व्यक्त गर्दछन् त्यसै आधारमा मूल्यांकन गर्दा यी ३ दल, मिलेर खाने र जनतालाई ढाँट्ने प्रश्नमा एकमत छन् भन्ने देखिन्छ।
यदि संविधान लेखिएन, शान्ति प्रक्रियाले पूर्णता पाएन, संविधानसभाको मर्म र जनआन्दोलनको भावना अनुरूप कार्य सम्पादन भएन भने त्यसको जवाफदेहिता एमाले, कांग्रेस र माओवादी समेत हुन पर्ने छ। आखिर निष्कर्षमा ३ दलीय “सेन्डीकेटको” सहमति र विमतिको गोरेटोमा त मुलुक छ 164
यस्तै भ्रष्ट र नालायक तरिकाले मुलुक चल्दै जाने र दलहरूप्रति जनताको आविश्वास चुलिंदै जाने हो भने देशको राजनीतिले लिने बैकल्पिक यात्रा कति खतरनाक होला? मूलतः एमाले, कांग्रेस र माओवादीले हेक्का राख्नु जरूरी छ। त्यसो त फेरि पनि जनआन्दोलनकारी शक्तिहरूको सहमति र सहकार्यको विकल्प छैन। यो राष्ट्रिय विवशता हो।

कविता – जुरेली को गान – लक्ष्मी प्रसाद देवकोटा

लक्ष्मी प्रसाद देवकोटा 12 Nov 1909 - 14 Sept 1959

लक्ष्मी प्रसाद देवकोटा
12 Nov 1909 – 14 Sept 1959


के बोल्छे यो जुरेली ?
सगरभरभुवा आँसुका बान्किला छन् !
राम्री ती इन्द्र–रानीतिर दिल–उछला छालझैं
भङ्गिला छन् !
रोएका ली जवानी दिलभर तिनको बोल्दछे यो निचोर !
चिर्छे एकान्तलाई पिउ पिउ स्वरले,
गीतले चित्त चोर !
सारा शब्दार्थ घोली अमृत–मथनले
विश्व–भाषा बनाई,
स्पन्दी, छन्दी, उछाली, सकल हृदयका्े
वेदनानन्दलाइर्,
कोपी खोलेर बोल्छे, सजल मृदुलता, सूक्ष्म बास्ना बहाई !
के, के, के, खल्बल्याई दिलदिल ! पृथिवी भावगोला तुल्याई !
बास्नाले फूल बोल्छन् यति, ज्वलनमा प्यास रङ्गीन वाणी !
यै हो गाना उडेका रुदित भ्रमरको, जिन्दगीको कहानी !
वाणी छोटी यही हो प्रकृति–पुरुषको ! गुन्जिदो यो जवानी !
यो हो थोपा, निचोर श्रुति, रस कविको प्यारको फूलदानी
पानीको कल्कलाई जलनिधितिरको यो दगुर्दो रुलाई !
यो हो बोली निशाको शशधरतिरको, शीतको पिल्पिलाई !
फिर् फिर् हो पुतलीको छवितिर, छविको पुतलिमा ढलाइृ!
माटाको भित्र बोल्दो बुलबुल मुटु हो, सम्झिदो स्वप्नलाई !
छायालाई अँगाली छवि छ जलदृशी ! सम्झना शून्यलाई !
केही, काहीं भएको, तर सँग नहुँदा क्यै पिरल्दो मलाई !
‘आ ! आ !’ भन्दो झझल्को, अमिट कठिनता कल्पनाको छुआई !
छाया गाडा बिझेको, कणकण चसकी, खालि रुँ रुँ जिलाई !
राम्री सृष्टि, प्रकृति अथवा खूव श्रृङ्गार पारी,
पर्खी, झुक्दै चलेकी, प्रियतम नमिली, दृष्टि मार्गभिसारी,
रुन्छे कोही थलामा मनमन गहिरो, आँसुको बाफ पारी,
भाषाभन्दा परैका ध्वनि त्यस दिलका गुँज्छ पन्छी, फिजारी !
रुन्छन् रानी जवानी सब युग, थलका, धोइ एकान्तलाई !
माटो फोरेर आत्मा मुखरित छ, जिती पुष्पको वासलाई !
यो हो माधुर्य के को ? –पिउपिउ रसको, मृत्युमा अमृतलाई !
बोल् ! बोल् ! मिठो जुरेली ! म पनि सँग बगें अर्थ पारी, रमाई !
कोपी खोल्ने क्रिया हो जलकण भरिने कुँद्नु यौटा कटौरा,
जो फुल्छन् फूल रुन्छन्, दिलभर जलका विन्दु झल्केर बौरा !
पन्छी यो, व्यक्त गर्दो कुसुम–हृदयको वेदनाको जवाफ,
दोटै आवान फाली, दुख सुख सुकला विश्वको चाल्छ साफ !
मोटोले स्पन्द पाई, किरणसँग जहाँ प्यारको भो प्रसूति,
भाषा खोज्दै उठयो त्यो तृण, कुसुम भई, गाउँदै अश्रुगीति,
पन्छी भै त्यो छचल्क्यो श्रवणविवरमा, वेदना बोल्छ साफ !
भाषा हो काल सारा बिउँझिनु दिलमा–दिव्य बक्सीस, श्राप !
‘पी पी’ हो शब्द पैलो, अमुखर दिलको, जन्मिदा प्यास, पानी !
भाषा या प्यारको हो ! विधु गगनसिखा, भूचरी कल्पिंदा नि !
तान्छिन् शोभा निचोरी दिलउपरतिरै— बोल्न लागी जुरेली,
पृथ्वीको जन्मदेखिन् अझतक जति छन् बोल्दछे क्या पिरोली !
ऊषा रुन्थिन् पियासी, मखमल फुलमा अङ्ग गोरा बटारी,
स्वप्ना भारी पुकारी, उदयविरहिणी, स्वर्ग गुम्दी, विचारी,
रुन्थे सारा फुलेका कुसुम वनभरी, वाणपुत्री निहारी,
तैंले होला सिकेको विरहुसुर त्यहीं, बोल्न पन्छी पियारी !
फुल्दा, सेता बदामी कुसुम झरझरी झार्दथे मिष्ट झोका
रोका आँशू खसाली बरबर उरमा, जूनले जल्पिएका,
राधा बन्दी कसैकी मनमन, वयसी दिव्य संयोगिताले
एकान्ती गुन्गुनीमा दृगजल उछलिन् बुल्बुली यै टुनाले !
जल्पीथिन् जानकीले मनमन सुर यी, रामजी कल्पिएर,
वंशी बज्थ्यो यसैमा टिरलिर यमुनाकूलमा कल्किएर !
हेलेन् होलिन् रुँदी यी दुखमय सुरमा, प्यारि पारी विषाद,
वर्षाई वेदनाका अति सुषम कणी, —युद्धका बाफ वाद !
सोला हो, स्वादु सोला, अतिशय दुखको सौख्य यो हो पिरोला !
गोला, मीठो, अबोला, बहन दुध भए, प्राप्ति बैकुण्ठ होला
यो चोलाको सुनौला जलप, रस यही, धाम गौरी र भोला !
पी पी बोल् रे जुरेली ! हृखय हृदयको बोल्छ संसार–गोला
यो कोपीको सुहानी जललव, रसको जिन्दगीबीच नानी !
यो तिर्खाको छ वाणी, प्रकृति–पुरुषको यो पुरानो कहानी !
यो हो दर्दी जवानी, प्रणय मुखरिंदो, गीतिकी रानी !
यो चूली हो हिमानी, शरण जगतको, भित्रको ढुक्ढुकानी !
झुक्लिन् छाया अँध्यारी सघन गगनकी, वर्वरी वर्ष वर्ष !
झिल्केली है बिजूली, क्षण क्षण मनमा सम्झनाबाट पर्श !
थोपा झर्लान्, सिहर्लान् तरुवर, लतिका ! वायु बोक्ने छ बाफ !
चल्ला यस्तै जगत्मा ! हृदय पिरलिंदै आउलान् यै विलाप !
छाती, छाती पुकार्लान् ! जल, जलकणिका बैंसले बैंसलाई !
प्यासी बोल्लान्, छिचोल्लान् समय र पिंजरा, गीतमा बग्न पाई !
घाँसी बाला छहर्लिन् हृदयजल कहीं, चम्चमाई हँसिया !
उक्लेका क्वै, सुसेली नव दिल–सपना, श्री पुकार्दो घँसीया !
बोल् ! बोल् ! बोली सुरीलौ, पिउ पिउ नित हे पिंजराकी जुरेली,
बोल्छन् यै वेदनवाणी–अतिसुषम उषातर्फ आत्मा पिरोली,
जूनेली ज्योति जेली हृदयभर यही, थोर संकेत खोली,
प्यासी बोलें म आफैं ‘पिउ’ अरथविना मृत्तिका क्यै छिचोली !

लक्ष्मी प्रशाद देवकोटा

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When that I was and a little tiny boy – William Shakespeare

When that I was and a little tiny boy,
With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,
A foolish thing was but a toy,
For the rain it raineth every day.

But when I came to man’s estate,
With hey, ho, . . .
‘Gainst knaves and thieves men shut their gate
For the rain, . . .

But when I came, alas! to wive,
With hey, ho, . . .
By swaggering could I never thrive,
For the rain, . . .

But when I came unto my beds,
With hey, ho, . . .
With toss-pots still had drunken heads,
For the rain, . . .

A great while ago the world begun,
With hey, ho, . . .
But that’s all one, our play is done.
And we’ll strive to please you every day.

William Shakespeare
William Shakespeare

English Poem – Be A Friend

Be a friend. You don’t need money;
Just a disposition sunny;
Just the wish to help another
Get along some way or other;
Just a kindly hand extended
Out to one who’s unbefriended;
Just the will to give or lend,
This will make you someone’s friend.

Be a friend. You don’t need glory.
Friendship is a simple story.
Pass by trifling errors blindly,
Gaze on honest effort kindly,
Cheer the youth who’s bravely trying,
Pity him who’s sadly sighing;
Just a little labor spend
On the duties of a friend.

Be a friend. The pay is bigger
(Though not written by a figure)
Than is earned by people clever
In what’s merely self-endeavor.
You’ll have friends instead of neighbors
For the profits of your labors;
You’ll be richer in the end
Than a prince, if you’re a friend.

Edgar Albert Guest

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English Poem – The Sorrow Of Love

THE brawling of a sparrow in the eaves,
The brilliant moon and all the milky sky,
And all that famous harmony of leaves,
Had blotted out man’s image and his cry.
A girl arose that had red mournful lips
And seemed the greatness of the world in tears,
Doomed like Odysseus and the labouring ships
And proud as Priam murdered with his peers;
Arose, and on the instant clamorous eaves,
A climbing moon upon an empty sky,
And all that lamentation of the leaves,
Could but compose man’s image and his cry.

William Butler Yeats

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English Poem – My Love Is Like To Ice

My love is like to ice, and I to fire:
How comes it then that this her cold so great
Is not dissolved through my so hot desire,
But harder grows the more I her entreat?
Or how comes it that my exceeding heat
Is not allayed by her heart-frozen cold,
But that I burn much more in boiling sweat,
And feel my flames augmented manifold?
What more miraculous thing may be told,
That fire, which all things melts, should harden ice,
And ice, which is congeal’s with senseless cold,
Should kindle fire by wonderful device?
Such is the power of love in gentle mind,
That it can alter all the course of kind.

Edmund Spenser
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English Poem – She Walks In Beauty

She walks in Beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that’s best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellowed to that tender light
Which Heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impaired the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o’er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express,
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.

And on that cheek, and o’er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!

George Gordon Byron
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के सबै भत्किएकै हो त – तारानाथ शर्मा

के लेख्नु? मनको घाउ कोट्ट्याऊँ अति दुख्तछ
नलेखूँ? मनको घाउ भित्रैदेखि चिलाउँछ
समस्या भित्र मनमा गाँठा पर्दै उदाउँछन्
समाधान कहाँ खोज्नु? रिँगटा नै छुटाउँछन् (१)

नेपाली भई जन्मेँ म ठूलो गौरव मान्दछु
इतिहास उज्यालो छ वीरताको म ठान्दछु
तर आज अहो हाम्रो हिमालै ढुन्मुनाउँछ
हत्याआतङ्कले गर्दा मुटु नै ढुक्ढुकाउँछ (२)

गाउँबाट सबै भागी थुप्रिए राजधानीमा
धेरैजसो काम खोज्दै भासिए परदेशमा
जो भाग्न सक्तथे भागे, नभाग्ने पिटिए सब
लुटिए, मारिए रित्तो भयो नेपालगौरव (३)

लूटमार गरी जोजो चिनिए उग्र नाममा
राजधानी आइसके धेरै धाकरबाफमा
साझा यो फूलको बारी फुटाए सब भत्कियो
टुक्राटुक्रा भयो राष्ट्र घृणाको भाव रन्कियो (४)

एकता कसरी फेरि ल्याउनु यस देशमा?
भावना कसरी भर्नु सहयोग र प्रेममा?
सर्वत्र मनमा सल्क्यो डढेलो उग्र दन्दनी
नदीनाला सबै सुक्ता फैल्यो सर्वत्र सन्सनी (५)

मरुभूमि भयो राष्ट्र जनता अब आत्तिए
घुस्याहा र भ्रष्ट स्वार्थी जति छन् सब मात्तिए
अनुशासन नै छैन, ऐन छैन कतै पनि
विकासको नाम छैन, अभावै छ जता पनि (६)

बिजुली बत्ती नै छैन, छैन तेल र चामल
खाने पानी नपाएर शरीरै हुन्छ ढल्मल
छैन, छैन, कतै छैन बाँच्ने आधार हल्लियो
सप्तरङ्गी राष्ट्रघाती दैत्यले राष्ट्र डल्लियो (७)

शक्तिको कुर्सीमा बस्ने जति छन् आज देशमा
लोकतन्त्र भनी नित्य कुर्लन्छन् छद्मभेषमा
वास्ता चाहिँ कतै छैन लोककल्याण गर्नमा
विदेशी तालमा नाच्छन् स्वामीकै लागि मर्नमा (८)

के सबै भत्किएकै हो त? मनमा हुरी चल्दछ
कालभैरव नै उठ्छन् शिवको नेत्र बल्दछ
ढल्दैन राष्ट्र नेपाल दह्रो आत्मा छँदै छ यो
अनन्तसम्म बलियो हाम्रो यो देशको हियो (९)

तारानाथ शर्मा

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English Poem – Cherry Time

Cherries of the night are riper
Than the cherries pluckt at noon
Gather to your fairy piper
When he pipes his magic tune:
Merry, merry,
Take a cherry;
Mine are sounder,
Mine are rounder,
Mine are sweeter
For the eater
Under the moon.
And you’ll be fairies soon.

In the cherry pluckt at night,
With the dew of summer swelling,
There’s a juice of pure delight,
Cool, dark, sweet, divinely smelling.
Merry, merry,
Take a cherry;
Mine are sounder,
Mine are rounder,
Mine are sweeter
For the eater
In the moonlight.
And you’ll be fairies quite.

When I sound the fairy call,
Gather here in silent meeting,
Chin to knee on the orchard wall,
Cooled with dew and cherries eating.
Merry, merry,
Take a cherry;
Mine are sounder,
Mine are rounder,
Mine are sweeter.
For the eater
When the dews fall.
And you’ll be fairies all.

Robert Graves

Robert Graves

Bridal Song

ROSES, their sharp spines being gone,
Not royal in their smells alone,
But in their hue;
Maiden pinks, of odour faint,
Daisies smell-less, yet most quaint,
And sweet thyme true;

Primrose, firstborn child of Ver;
Merry springtime’s harbinger,
With her bells dim;
Oxlips in their cradles growing,
Marigolds on death-beds blowing,
Larks’-heels trim;

All dear Nature’s children sweet
Lie ‘fore bride and bridegroom’s feet,
Blessing their sense!
Not an angel of the air,
Bird melodious or bird fair,
Be absent hence!

The crow, the slanderous cuckoo, nor
The boding raven, nor chough hoar,
Nor chattering pye,
May on our bride-house perch or sing,
Or with them any discord bring,
But from it fly!
William Shakespeare

William Shakespeare

Bhanu Bhakta Acharya

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This year Bhanu Jayanti is on Ashad 29, 2071. It is on July 13, 2012 in English calendar.
Bhanubhakta Acharya is reagarded as the first poet of Nepal who wrote first time in Nepali language. He was the one who translated Ramayana from Sanskrit to Nepali.

He was born in 1814 at Chundi Ramgha gaun (village) in Tanahu district of western Nepal. He was educated at home by his grandfather, Shri Krishna Acharya.

Bhanubhakta is the first poet of Nepal. Poets before him in Nepal usually wrote in Sanskrit. One of his writings is well known for its colorful, flowing praise of Kathmandu valley and its inhabitants. (Titled Kantipuri Nagari meaning Kantipur town)
Bhanubhakta translated great epic “Ramayana” from Sanskrit to Nepali. He not only translated Ramayan but also gave a famous rhyme called Bhanubhaktiya laya. below is the start of Ramayana in Bhanubaktiya rhyme.

एक दिन नारद सत्य लोक पुगिगया
लोक को गरौ हित भनि।।।।
After the fall of the Khas Empire in the 15th century, its language which evolved into present day Nepali was considered bastardized and limited to speech. Sanskrit dominated most of the written texts of South Asia and its influence was particularly strong in Nepal. Brahmins were the teachers, scholars and priests of the society by virtue of their caste. Their education was Sanskrit-oriented since most religious texts of the Hindu religion were in that language.

Many wrote poetry in Sanskrit that were too heavily to understand. Bhanubhakta was definitely “the” writer who gained the acceptance of a wide range of people and his creations played a key role in popularizing the written form of Nepali language.

Bhanubhakta’s contribution is unique. Children who received an education at the time began their studies with light epics such as the “Ramayan” and graduated to the more complex “Upanishads” and “Vedas.”

Ram’s heroic exploits were highly impressive to Bhanubhakta, so he decided to make the deity more accessible to the people who spoke Khas. (Since the social order did not encourage literacy, most country people did not understand anything when epics were read out to them in Sanskrit those days.)

When completed, his translation of the Ramayan was so lyrical that it was more like a song than a poem.

All his ideas and experiences were derived from his intuition. He started the thread of writing. He is the one who made it possible to reach true story of Ramayan to every Nepali. He is pioneer and we regard him as a one of the creators of Nepali language.

The Adi Kavi, Bhanubhakta, is said to be inspired by a grass cutter when was a young boy. He was from a wealthy family and was leading an unremarkable life until he met a grass cutter who in spite of being poor, wanted to give back something to mankind and the society, which could make him remembered after his death too.

Inspiring by the words of the grass cutter, he wrote these lines:
भरजन्म घासँ तिर मन दिई
धन कमायो
नाम् केही रहोस् पछी भनि
कुवा खनायो
घाँशी दरिद्र घरको
तर बुद्दी कस्तो
म भानुभक्त धनी भैकन
आज एस्तो
मेरो इनार , न त सत्तल पाटी केही छन्
जे चिज र धनहरु छन्
घर भित्र नै छन्
त्येस् घाँसी ले कसरी
आज दियेछ अर्ती
धिक्कर हो मकन
बस्नु नराखी किर्ती ।

Natya Siromani Balkrishna Sama

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Bal Krishna Samser janga bahadur Rana was born in 1902 as the second son to General Samer Shumshere Jung Bahadur Rana and Kirti Rajya Laxmi in Gyaneshwor, Kathmandu, Nepal. He was born in Rana family (equivalent to Royal family) of that time so he was able to pursue the best education available in the country.

He completed his high school from Bhanu School (Durbar High School) in Rani Pokhari and went to Tri Chandra college as a science student. Balkrishna Samser Janga bahadur Rana by birth had right to become military officer went to Dehradoon (India) training and became a Lieutenant Colonel. Then prime minister Chandra Shumshere did not find Sama’s interest in writing positively. Sama was not happy about the Rana rules and the regime.

He got married to Mandakini in 1921.

Balkrishna was distracted by cruelty of his grandfather to the servants and worker. His father was engaged in luxurious all the time. Sama had struggled finding time for him in peace. He selected learning art and literature to spend his time far from those violence and inhuman behaviors.

He started publishing his articles in good magazines like Sarada, Udhyog, Shahitya Shrot and others. He took out all the honorary names out of his long name and made it short as “Balkrihna Sama”. He did not want to associated himself with Rana autocracy in Nepal.

The drama “Bhater” published in Pragati in 1953 represents his feelings and concerned on human rights and freedom.

Bal Krishna Sama is known “Natya Siromani”. He was known to be “Shakespeare” of the era in Nepal. He was much more inspired by Shakespeare’s works. His dramas such as “Prem Pinda”, “Buhartan”, “Tapobhumi”, “Atyadhunikta”, and “Bhater” present the social context of the Rana era.

“Mukunda Indira” and “Mutuko Byatha” show the emotional and romantic side of Sama’s personality. Mukunda Indira is story of all Nepali people still in 21st century. “Amit Basana”, “Boksi”, “Talamathi”, and “Andhabeg” are based on the human psychology. And his dramas on historical personalities are “Amar Singh”, “Bhimsen Ko Antya”, and “Bhakta Bhanubhakta”. “Birami Ra Kuruwa” deals with philosophy while “Prahlad” and “Dhruba” are based on religious figures.

Sama’s contribution to Nepali literature and drama is things to be proud of.

Sama wrote stories, poems, essays, compositions, and biographies. His contemporaries Laxmi Prasad Devkota and Lekhnath Poudyal were involved in writing poetry. “Aago Ra Paani” and “Chiso Chulho” are his popular epics, he wrote an essay on Nepalese art entitled “Nepal Lalit Kala” as well as a biography Hamra Rastriya Bhibhutiharu and an autobiography Mero Kabita Ko Aradhana, Part I and II. “Kaikai” is his most well-known short story collection which was published in 1938.

Sama had very important role in changing the name “Gorkha Bhasa Prakashini Samiti” to “Nepali Bhasa Prakashini Samiti”. He felt “Gorkha” did not truly represent the people of Nepal. His wants all to become Nepali. He also became the chairman of the Samiti for several years and worked as a lecturer of Nepali language and literature in Tri Chandra College.

In 1955, he became director of Radio Nepal and chief editor of Gorkhapatra. In 1967, when the Royal Nepal Academy was established, he became a member and later on the vice chancellor of the academy.

Sama continued writing and published though his life several poems in magagines like Madhuparka, Ramjham and others. He had many unpublished works which he read out in literary programs. Among his unpublished dramas are “Gangalal”, “Aja”, “Milinad”, “Prem”, “Chinta”, “Prandaan”.

Sama was awarded with the Tribhuwan Puraskar from Nepal Rajakiya Pragya Prathistan in 1972. The same year he received the Bishesh Upadhi from Tribhuvan University and in 1978, the Prithvi Pragya Puraskar from Pragya Pratisthan.

He died in 1981. He physically left the world, but his works are still alive. His contribution to Nepali Sahitya(literature) is invincible.

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Bal Krishna Sama

English Poem – Mad As The Mist And Snow

Bolt and bar the shutter,
For the foul winds blow:
Our minds are at their best this night,
And I seem to know
That everything outside us is
Mad as the mist and snow.

Horace there by Homer stands,
Plato stands below,
And here is Tully’s open page.
How many years ago
Were you and I unlettered lads
Mad as the mist and snow?

You ask what makes me sigh, old friend,
What makes me shudder so?
I shudder and I sigh to think
That even Cicero
And many-minded Homer were
Mad as the mist and snow.

William Butler Yeats

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नेपाली कविता – कानुन को बलात्कार ले,बन्दैन यो देस..!

आदर्स र कुनै बाद ले, बन्दैन देश
बम बारुद र छुरा,हातले बन्दैन देश!

जवान जती सबै अब,परदेश लागि सके
बाँकी,बुढा, भुरा हरुले बन्दैन देश!!
हाम्रा भोट बोकी भट्टि छिरि हिड्दै छौ रे
जुवा सुरा सुन्दरी ले बन्दैन देश!!!
तरुनीलाई,बोकी कता हरायौ रे भन्छन.
सिन्दुर् पोते चुरा हरुले, बन्दैन देश!!!!

उध्योग धन्दा कलकारखाना,बन्द भै सके
बन्द हर्ताल चक्काजाम ले बन्दैन यो देस..!!!!
नेपालीहरु आफु आफुमा जुध्न तयार छन् रे
जात भाषाको काटा काट ले बन्दैन यो देस!!!!!
ज्यानमारा हरु सभासद र मन्त्रि भका छन् रे
कानुन को बलात्कार ले,बन्दैन यो देस..!!!!
तेसरी कमरेड झन बन्दैन यो देस…

Mark Twain’s Huckleberry Finn

Jim and Huckleberry Finn’s growth throughout The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn set the stage for Daniel Hoffman’s interpretation in “From Black Magic-and White-in Huckleberry Finn.” Hoffman exhibits that through Jim’s relationship with Huckleberry, the river’s freedom and “in his supernatural power as interpreter of the oracles of nature” (110) Jim steps boldly towards manhood.
Jim’s evolution is a result of Twain’s “spiritual maturity.” Mark Twain falsely characterizes superstition as an African faith but, Daniel Hoffman explains that most folk lore in Huckleberry derives from European heritage. Tying your hair into knots with thread to defend against witches who ride their prey is even referenced in Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet. Mr. Hoffman then goes on to ask and answer “Why, then does Mark Twain make such a point of having only Negroes, children and riffraff as the bearers of folk superstitions in the recreated world of his youth?” (109) He clarifies that during the time Huck Finn was composed, Twain was living far from his childhood home. His memory of Uncle Dan’l, who Mark Twain divulges in his autobiography, was the origin of Jim, and his stories are skewed by Twain’s memory. Hoffman also believes that Twain infuses his ideas on “superstition: slaves: boyhood freedom” (109) It Is grouped together due to his experiences of his youth. “The minstrel stereotype, as we have scene, was the only possible starting point for a white author attempting to deal with a Negro character a century ago,” (110) is another of Hoffman’s takes on Mr. Twain’s situation.
Daniel Hoffman speculates that Mark Twain intertwines superstition and freedom. Our first look at Huck Finn is in The Adventures of Tom Sawyer when Tom sees him swinging around a dead cat. Huck and his dead cat symbolize freedom to “civilized” Tom. Freedom from manacles of society may seem ideal to Tom but, they hold a certain danger to Huck. Daniel believes the death hiding in the natural world scares Huckleberry and makes him long to control it. “For Huck, the omens are an acknowledgement of the fact of death.” (102) While Huck can try to dominate these powers in nature he is only a student compared to Jim. During the course of the book Jim comes from a man controlled by his fear of witches to controlling evils. With Jim’s power to predict the future he becomes more liberated. He finds strength in foreseeing death. Hoffman concludes that Jim’s power derives from the river and he only wields this power on the raft alone with Huck Finn. “The river god is indifferent to humanity: he runs on uncontaminated by the evils along his shores; asserting now and then in dominance and power over ‘the damned human race.’” (105) When they land on the shore or the Duke and King join them Jim loses his mystical powers. Huck returns to the care giver role. Jim is also able to cure the snakebite illustrating his dominance as a medicine man over the universe. Even during his captivity he holds on to the belief that he controls black magic. Jim sinks farther from his minstrel stereotype through his use of his black magic and freedom. He often passes his knowledge onto Huck Finn.
Jim’s knowledge of folk lore helps him to protect Huck. When the “House of Death” floats by Jim is first to explore the wreckage and finds Pap’s body. He shelters Huckleberry from this horrific truth. Hoffman implies that this knowledge allows Jim to assume the role of Huck’s father. Huck also takes on the role of Jim’s son by protecting him. “Huck now realizes that he is bound to Jim by ties too strong for mischievous trifling, ties so strong that he must break the strongest mores of the society he was raised in to acknowledge.” (105) Huck’s discovery of his genuine love for Jim causes him to defy society for his “fathers” well being. Though many believe Jim and Huck’s relationship is degrading to African Americans it is purely a father-son bond.
Mark Twain according to Hoffman wants Huck Finn and Jim to have liberty through their morals not freedom in society. Daniel Hoffman considers Jim’s legal emancipation as a step back from his heroism. While Jim resorts back to his former self, “grateful to the young white boss,” (111) Huckleberry plans to run from society again. Both men go through obstacles but both only find the “equivocal freedom of status.”

English Poem – A Night Piece

The sky is overcast
With a continuous cloud of texture close,
Heavy and wan, all whitened by the Moon,
Which through that veil is indistinctly seen,
A dull, contracted circle, yielding light
So feebly spread, that not a shadow falls,
Chequering the ground–from rock, plant, tree, or tower.
At length a pleasant instantaneous gleam
Startles the pensive traveller while he treads
His lonesome path, with unobserving eye
Bent earthwards; he looks up–the clouds are split
Asunder,–and above his head he sees
The clear Moon, and the glory of the heavens.
There, in a black-blue vault she sails along,
Followed by multitudes of stars, that, small
And sharp, and bright, along the dark abyss
Drive as she drives: how fast they wheel away,
Yet vanish not!–the wind is in the tree,
But they are silent;–still they roll along
Immeasurably distant; and the vault,
Built round by those white clouds, enormous clouds,
Still deepens its unfathomable depth.
At length the Vision closes; and the mind,
Not undisturbed by the delight it feels,
Which slowly settles into peaceful calm,
Is left to muse upon the solemn scene.
William Wordsworth
William Wordsworth

English Poem – Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening – Robert Frost

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

Robert_Frost

English Poem – The Road Not Taken – Robert Frost

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear,
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

Robert-Frost

नेपाली कविता – इच्छा – बालकृष्ण सम

इच्छा यो छ महेश, अन्तिम जसै यो मृत्युसैया जली
मेरो रक्त सुकाउला म गरुँला अन्योल भै छट्पटी
त्यो बेला मुखमा बुटीहरु परुन् नेपालकै केवल
जे-जेमा हिमशैलको छ मधुरो मीठो चिसो चुम्बन ।१।
यो नेपाल स्वतन्त्र भै फुलिरहोस्, राजाप्रजामा सधैँ
झाँगी फैलिरहोस् बढेर लहरा यै शान्ति ऐर्श्वर्यको
यो सन्देश म ब्रहृमनाल तकिया पारी पठाउँ वहाँ
साक्षी शङ्कर छन् श्मसानपछिका आशा रहेका जहाँ ।२।
बज्ला मन्दिरमा “तथास्तु” जब यो घण्टा दिदै उत्तर
हाँस्तै शान्त भई उही समयमा नेपाल हेरी मरुँ ।
मैरो लाश पवित्र चन्दन घसोस्, कात्रो मलाई बनोस्
नेपाली सुकुमार हातहरुले खस्रा बुनेका लुगा ।३।
नेपाली वनका कपूर तुलसी श्रीखण्डका साथमा
प्यारो सुन्दर आर्यघाट तटको साजा चितामा जलूँ,
पाउँ बस्न मरेर आखिर गई स्वर्गीय त्यै ठाउँ
मानेपालीहरु छन् मरीकन सबै जन्मिरहेका जहाँ ।४।

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English Poem – A New Day, A New Life, A New Beauty – Cassandra Jasmine

Every Year,
Every day,
Every season,
Nature makes room for all to come into the world.

The soft-eyed fawn,
Nestles against her mother’s
Leathery, yet soft hide.
They chase butterflies and birds.
Beautiful, delicate, and dappled with sunlight.

Fillies and colts,
Prance to and fro,
Trying their best to imitate their father.
Yet when they’re grown,
They bloom like flowers.
Beautiful, Courageous, and Strong-Willed.

The wolf pup
Yips and yaps,
Tumbling through the tall, dancing grass,
Sniffing wild flowers.
Young, carefree, and strong.

Jaguars, Cougars, Lions, Tigers
All start as kittens.
They prowl, stalk, and pounce.
Twisting in midair, leaping over hedges,
Romping in the dark.
Quick-witted, sly, and mysterious,
Yet beautiful.

Birds of different colors
Possess different airs of beauty.
The lark’s lyrical song touches many,
The parrot’s beauty takes one’s breathe away,
And even the crow,
Whom could be a nuisance to crops,
Are admired for their intelligence.
Yet they all have one in common:
They were all once small, meek hatch-lings.

Every animal
Is born small, and delicate.
Yet when he’s grown,
The words that describe him are priceless.
“Beautiful, Courageous, Stubborn,
And many a time, loyal.”

A New Day, A New Life, A New Love.

Teaching – Every Day Brings Something New

I started seriously thinking about what I wanted to do with my life, concerning my career, in the 11th grade. From my junior year until my first semester in college, I was certain my purpose in life was to teach. However, people I spoke with, including some family, friends, and even schoolteachers, repeatedly crushed this choice: “Why would you want to be a teacher? Don’t you know how much they make? Why would you want to deal with bratty kids all day? Don’t you know teaching is one of the most stressful jobs you can have?” Being the naive, 17 year old that I was, I listened, and changed my career choice-3 times! I went through 2 years of computer classes to become an administrative assistant, 1 year studying law for paralegalism and 1 ½ years focusing on business management. Throughout those 4 years of unfulfilled, the idea of teaching still lingered in my head. I started asking myself why I decided teaching was not for me. I discovered that even though teaching did carry a few negative aspects, they could never come close to the positive.

For the past 5 years, I have been coaching the varsity dance team at Wood haven High School. Although there have definitely been some difficult, stressful situations, I have found the experience very rewarding. The greatest thing about coaching is the satisfaction you feel after a student succeeds in what he or she has set out to accomplish-not only physically, but also mentally. Being a coach is more than just a 9 to 5 job. It’s more than staring at a computer for 8-10 hours, not caring about the people around you or your work. This is even more apparent in teaching in a classroom 5 days a week, for as much as 7-9 hours a day. Teaching is adventurous, challenging, and exciting, because every day brings something new. As a teacher, you’re not only working for a living, you are acting as a role model to every child around you. A teacher has the chance to change a child’s life everyday.

The main element of lifelong learning is to never stop learning. One must understand that there’s no such thing as a person who knows everything. Whether one is a teacher, rocket scientist, parent, or child, a human being’s capacity to learn new things is never ending. It’s very important to encourage students to remain “students” for a lifetime. By explaining to them the importance of open-mindedness, a child can learn to value other’s opinions before making his/her own conclusions. By teaching them they have something to bring to the table, they will learn that their opinions matter, regardless of how old they are, or who they’re speaking to. By encouraging them to learn something new everyday, they will one day understand just how important lifelong learning is to their life.

In respect to other areas of study that I would like to pursue, I have recently become very interested in Eastern’s program for communication and theater arts. Although I have already chosen this program for my minor, I find myself wanting to learn more than just basic overviews given in my classes. After I graduate with my teaching degree, I plan to further my education in this area by maybe taking some classes for fun, or maybe even getting another degree.

Because I have a full time job, a coaching job, and a full workload at school, I definitely have no free time. However, I have decided to give up my coaching job at the end of this year in order to dedicate more of my time to my classes. This decision has been extremely hard for me because of how much I adore my coaching job. However, getting good grades in school, and learning how to be the best teacher I can be is of more importance. This experience has been a lifelong lesson for me, because I have learned that to achieve certain goals, one must learn how to make sacrifices.

I feel that even though I’m not perfect, I have a good head on my shoulders. I am proud of the decisions I have made in the past, and have no regrets. I am responsible, dedicated, successful, and passionate about what I do. I think my behavior will serve as a good example to my students. I can’t wait to get out into the teaching field and learn more than I ever though possible.