शून्यमा शून्य सरी  – लक्ष्मी प्रसाद देवकोटा 

संसार रुपी सुख स्वर्गभित्र,

रमें रमाएँ लिइ भित्र चित्र ।

सारा भयो त्यो मरुभूमि तुल्य,

रातै परेझैं अब बुझ्छु बल्ल ।

रहेछ संसार निशा समान,

आएन ज्यूँदै रहँदा नि ज्ञान ।

आखीर श्रीकृष्ण रहेछ एक,

न भक्ति भो, ज्ञान, नभो विवेक ।

महामरुमा कणझैं म तातो,

जलेर मर्दो बिनु आश लाटो ।

सुकी रहेको तरुझैं छु खाली,

चिताग्नि तापी जल डाल्न फाली ।

संस्कार आफ्नो सब नै गुमाएँ,

म शून्यमा शून्य सरी बिलाएँ ।

जन्मेँ म यो स्वर्गविषे पलाएँ,

आखीर भै खाक त्यसै बिलाएँ

गौंथली र देवकोटा – लक्ष्मी प्रसाद देवकोटा 

क.

गौंथली र देवकोटाको

एउटै गुँड छ ! एउटै गुण छ !
ख.

यस घाटमा क्या बाघ र पाठो पानी पिउँछ !

प्रकृति बसेर, दुइटैको दिल,

एक धागोमा सिउँछ, सिउँछ !

त्यो तर्सिन्न, म शङ्किन !

मध्यरातमा एक कोठामा

दुइटै जीवको जाग्ने निहुँ छ

तलतिर लागे यस संसारमा

आगो, आगो,

मास्तिर ज्यादा लागेदेखिन्

यशको चिसो हिउँ छ, हिउँ छ !

बीच बासो,

फ्यारफ्यार मध्यम,

रसले जिउँछ, रसले जिउँछ !
ग.

बिजुलीको तार लामो, मसिनो,

तानिएको हेर ! यहाँ छ !

तरङ्ग, लहर क्यै त्यसमा जिउँछ !

त्यसमा गौंथली रातमा रुँग्छ,

कविको मन पनि त्यस्तै उँग्छ !

स्वर्गले रोई हेरिरहेको

भिजेकी पृथिवी मनले सुँघ्छ !

दिनभर, दिनभर,

दिलले, साधन त्यस्तै हिलोमा

प्यारका एउटा महल बनाउन,

ठुँग्छ, ठुँग्छ !

सूनसानमा निशिको, सुत्दा

सारा संसार, जागी, जागी,

कल्पनाको आँखा उँग्छ !
घ.

सुहृद्मधु छन्, कविता, पोथी,

सँगकी ज्योति !

यस जगत्मा खँदिलो बासो

निम्ति, उनको ‘चिउँ’ छ ! ‘पिउँ’ छ !

मधुमास बिताउन नेपाल छान्यौं,

विवाहपछाडि,

स्वस्थ र अग्लो ठाउँ जुन छ ।

गौंथली र देवकोटाको

अध्यात्म मितेरी चुपचाप रुन्छ !

सृष्टिको हाम्रो पीडा देखी,

करुणादृग झैं तारामय नभ,

करयाइँबाट झ्यालमा चिहाई,

एक तारमा गुड्छ गुड्छ !

गौंथली र देवकोटाको

एउटै गुँड छ ! एउटै गुण छ !
ङ.

वसन्त पछाडि लागी आयौं !

स्वपनाको फुल बिपना हुन्छ !

गौरी–शङ्कर गाना गायौं —

प्रकृति पुरुषको जुहारी परस्पर,

गाना जुन छ !

त्यो चुच्चाको, यस रसनाको,

गाउँदो रचना हाम्रो घर हो !

युगका बच्चा आँखा उघार्लान्,

हेर्दै पर हो !

दिनभर, दिनभर,

जगत्ले कुल्ची हिंड्ने हिलोमा,

हाम्रो नजर छ

त्यही हो हाम्रो घरको साधन !

यस्तो ईँट र यस्तो माटो, नेपालभर छ !

पृथिवीभर छ !

दिनभर, दिनभर, फ्यारफ्यार, भुर्भुर,

माटोको गन्ध नाकले सुँघ्छ !

स्वर्ग रोई, गीला, बनेका हिला चुचाले

उचाल्न खोजी ठुँग्छ, ठुँग्छ

गौंथली र देवकोटाको

एउटै गुँड छ ! एउटै गुण छ !
च.

बच्चा काढी यस गुँडमा जब

तिनको पखेटा उम्रन्छ !

वनमा लगीकन तिनलाई उडाउन,

हाम्रो मीठो मनसूब छ !

त्यसपछि प्यारा, प्यारी हामी

कविकविताको गौंथली जोडी

उड्छ, उड्छ !

सागर–किनार पुग्छौं, फ्यारफ्यार

एक बार फर्की,

आँसुले हेर्न,

मानिसहरुको जङ्गल जुन छ !

डुब्छौं, दम्पति सागरमा तब,

सुखमा हाम्रो आत्मा बुड्छ !

प्रसव–वेदनाको यो सदनको

पीडा उड्छ !

गौंथली र देवकोटाको,

एउटै गुँड छ ! एउटै गुण छ !

ज्यापु – लक्ष्मी प्रसाद देवकोटा 

छाती चिरीकन पृथिवीको

 दूधचुस्छन् मानिस,

दुहुने मै हुँ ।

धूप झरीमा आत्मा परिशुद्ध

बर्ख यी तनी बीस

नहुँदो भौँ हुँ !

श्रृङ्गार हिलो, नङ्गा फिलो,

आँखा चमचम,

आदिम खनुवा,

शरीर शिला र कलेजा गिलो

चिथरा सिमसिम,

एकलो मनुवा ।

धान धापमा रीप छ टापू,

कुहिँदो छाना,

पत्थर सिरान,

तीन पुस्तातक बन्धक आपूm

पितृ नाना,

बन्धक चिहान ।

सम्पत् पित्तलको यो थाली,

हाँडी काली,

गोल्पू घैँटो,

धुजारु दौरा झिलमिल जाली,

चिथ्रे डाली,

गोबर गुँइठो

साथी भन्नु कानो कुक्कुर,

लुते घाँटी,

उपियाँदार ।

मालिक भन्दछ कुइँकुइँ थुरथुर,

भुक्तछ छ राति,

धन–रखबार ।

विवाह स्वपना सरि झैँ पर भो,

वायुको बीज,

टिप्ला काक,

पृथिवी फलाएँ, अरुको घर गो,

बलि हो एक चीज,

ईश्वर अवाक् !

Power Will Start Falling – Tamara Robalo

Tears fell forever before 

Mirrors of death in thousands of wars 

Witnesses of life in our brightest moments 

Now, fall like simple drops of rain, 

Healing the rage, feeding the drain 

Of our buried life instead 

Tears turn to lies 

Our cries never came for life 

And our dreams fade out with time 

Our heroes are dead bodies or souls 

However we cannot feel more alive 

Heroes become ghosts 

We trade hope for certainty 

We shut our mouth to belong 

Let our silence be the riot 

Let it unfold what words were hiding 

Words come unnecessary 

We waited to come home till the runrise 

Now, we’re left behind 

We used to fear the blinding light 

Now, we’re coming out of the dark 

The dark was the refugy 

Humans? 

They’re beautiful dread souls 

Existing fo us 

Letting us join the masses club 

Giving us a shot to be someone 

Teaching us how to die (just) inside 

Souls get sillent 

They’re nothing new 

Conquering your dreams before you heard a thing 

Making us slaves of our own instinct 

They´re the men who rule our world 

You’re the unknown soldier

Society Rises – Tamara Robalo

What would a blind man do 

In a land of foreign views? 

Why would the rain fall down 

In an ocean of hot sand blue? 
I’ve been walking through a desert 

Full of people and white venom 

I have seen the children smoking 

Drowing slowly, singing hungry 
They found an escape 

On the exit mind gate 

The simple twist of fate 

The Running 

Round and Around 
Heaven is on the otherside, they say 

So don’t live, let yourself die instead 
Do they believe in afterlife? 

Have they seen the rich man cry? 
Their whispered voices 

Sing in the Winter’s evening of life 

Like Christian songs at the ears of the deaf 

In the darkness of the light

Ecologue II – Virgil

ALEXIS 
The shepherd Corydon with love was fired 

For fair Alexis, his own master’s joy: 

No room for hope had he, yet, none the less, 

The thick-leaved shadowy-soaring beech-tree grove 

Still would he haunt, and there alone, as thus, 

To woods and hills pour forth his artless strains. 

‘Cruel Alexis, heed you naught my songs? 

Have you no pity? you’ll drive me to my death. 

Now even the cattle court the cooling shade 

And the green lizard hides him in the thorn: 

Now for tired mowers, with the fierce heat spent, 

Pounds Thestilis her mess of savoury herbs, 

Wild thyme and garlic. I, with none beside, 

Save hoarse cicalas shrilling through the brake, 

Still track your footprints ‘neath the broiling sun. 

Better have borne the petulant proud disdain 

Of Amaryllis, or Menalcas wooed, 

Albeit he was so dark, and you so fair! 

Trust not too much to colour, beauteous boy; 

White privets fall, dark hyacinths are culled. 

You scorn me, Alexis, who or what I am 

Care not to ask- how rich in flocks, or how 

In snow-white milk abounding: yet for me 

Roam on Sicilian hills a thousand lambs; 

Summer or winter, still my milk-pails brim. 

I sing as erst Amphion of Circe sang, 

What time he went to call his cattle home 

On Attic Aracynthus. Nor am I 

So ill to look on: lately on the beach 

I saw myself, when winds had stilled the sea, 

And, if that mirror lie not, would not fear 

Daphnis to challenge, though yourself were judge. 

Ah! were you but content with me to dwell. 

Some lowly cot in the rough fields our home, 

Shoot down the stags, or with green osier-wand 

Round up the straggling flock! There you with me 

In silvan strains will learn to rival Pan. 

Pan first with wax taught reed with reed to join; 

For sheep alike and shepherd Pan hath care. 

Nor with the reed’s edge fear you to make rough 

Your dainty lip; such arts as these to learn 

What did Amyntas do?- what did he not? 

A pipe have I, of hemlock-stalks compact 

In lessening lengths, Damoetas’ dying-gift: 

‘Mine once,’ quoth he, ‘now yours, as heir to own.’ 

Foolish Amyntas heard and envied me. 

Ay, and two fawns, I risked my neck to find 

In a steep glen, with coats white-dappled still, 

From a sheep’s udders suckled twice a day- 

These still I keep for you; which Thestilis 

Implores me oft to let her lead away; 

And she shall have them, since my gifts you spurn. 

Come hither, beauteous boy; for you the Nymphs 

Bring baskets, see, with lilies brimmed; for you, 

Plucking pale violets and poppy-heads, 

Now the fair Naiad, of narcissus flower 

And fragrant fennel, doth one posy twine- 

With cassia then, and other scented herbs, 

Blends them, and sets the tender hyacinth off 

With yellow marigold. I too will pick 

Quinces all silvered-o’er with hoary down, 

Chestnuts, which Amaryllis wont to love, 

And waxen plums withal: this fruit no less 

Shall have its meed of honour; and I will pluck 

You too, ye laurels, and you, ye myrtles, near, 

For so your sweets ye mingle. Corydon, 

You are a boor, nor heeds a whit your gifts 

Alexis; no, nor would Iollas yield, 

Should gifts decide the day. Alack! alack! 

What misery have I brought upon my head!- 

Loosed on the flowers Siroces to my bane, 

And the wild boar upon my crystal springs! 

Whom do you fly, infatuate? gods ere now, 

And Dardan Paris, have made the woods their home. 

Let Pallas keep the towers her hand hath built, 

Us before all things let the woods delight. 

The grim-eyed lioness pursues the wolf, 

The wolf the she-goat, the she-goat herself 

In wanton sport the flowering cytisus, 

And Corydon Alexis, each led on 

By their own longing. See, the ox comes home 

With plough up-tilted, and the shadows grow 

To twice their length with the departing sun, 

Yet me love burns, for who can limit love? 

Ah! Corydon, Corydon, what hath crazed your wit? 

Your vine half-pruned hangs on the leafy elm; 

Why haste you not to weave what need requires 

Of pliant rush or osier? Scorned by this, 

Elsewhere some new Alexis you will find.’