Rajitha Kondasani is an Indian poet and short story writer from Subbirayanipalli of Rayalaseema Region, a draught area. She is an anganvadi teacher where she teaches to the rural children. Having come fromfarmers family her themes focus on the adversities of farmers, women and children. She won many awards for her poetry and is a widely published poet.
These poems were translated into English by Sreekanth Kopuri who is an Indian poet from Machilipatnam, India and current poetry editor of Kitchen Sink Magazine. He recited his poetry in University of Oxford, John Hopkins University, Heinrich Heine University and many others. His poems appeared in Christian Century Arkansan Review, Chicago Memory House, Heartland Review.
I perpetually burn being a torch to kindle the world. A timeless individual days spill as leaves from my existence itself. Nothing special I'm the hearth and the burden too on it, I'm for production and reproduction too I'm for myself and yourself, It's I who unite many to one I'm the one who turns the universe into abundance What will you give me in particular and how much? What will you search me for? and where? It's I who brought you into the world, but it's me you try to cram in a snake basket, playing the pungi I don't want your garlands nor salutes nor even your sorcerous art that wraps silk dress as per need Come! Come if you can! Let’s become a shoulder for a shoulder of left and right; in and out, a firm shake-hand an unceasing embrace Let's move from the deceptive world to the underground; from underground to the true world of humanity cleaving the sky.
My Country’s Backbone…..
Farmer is a golden duck that lays eggs on the leaders' behalf today Even if degenerated from honorable state to wretchedness with market becoming the brokers' kingdom and rat-eaten My country's backbone! Even if your back is broken or bent unable to bear the burden of debts Your plough, that tills for the sake of khaddar-donned leaders must prosper even if fruitless
He comes shining, chasing off the stars, before the threshold of our street opens. If he is the Sun I pursue him becoming his Sunflower When he comes in the night with the stars, I become the star-Jasmine fragrance . When I try to open my lip, he utters as a song becoming the word. If he is a green tree, I become the green of those spring leaves If his eyes turn moist, I become a bone bole He becomes raining cloud to re-sprout me, I thrill becoming spring Even if the seasons change he becomes a brand new dot of vermillion on my forehead everyday. If he glows as a lamp in thurible, lights flower in my eyes, they spread around the world and banter even the rays of moon I wonder how the mirror knows that we are one If I peep into him it shows only him as reflection..!!