Excellence in Arts (Alinka) (In praise of Dagon Taryar)

Excellence in Arts (Alinka)
(In praise of Dagon Taryar)

"May" is the famous novel of Dagon Taryar
It evokes a sweet smiling lady in the readers
No one can ever forgets her
Once you have read and devour her treasures.

"May" is modern, stylish and new
She is pretty, intelligent and shrewd
She is kind, caring daring and true
She is a real flower where honour is due
Where "The soft silky cool breeze blew".

Artists should not be villains in history
They are stars in the public gallery
Dagon Taryar is the star of stars in literati
He wrote 'Yoke Pon Hlwar", a book of biographies
Of real prominent men in Burmese hierachy
For all to remember till eternity.

Dagon Taryar is a lotus in clean water
He is a leader and preacher for other writers
He publishes the "Taryar" magazine to foster
New poetry, prose, essay and whatsoever
So that a new epoch is set up in Burmese literature
He is indeed a brilliant leader in this endevour.

He had wandered over Irrawaddy, Yang-tse and Volga
He had really travelled far and wide ever
He never grumbles or groans for any hardships
Yet he was thrown into prison by Myanma socialists
He did not give in and lives
He writes the historic novel for all to relish
It's " Our day will come", no one to miss.

Dagon taryar is an all round artiste
He is deft at play acting and music
He plays piano, harp and own lips
It's sweet, melodious and artistic
Evoking pleasure that is nostalgic
As words flow from his pen rhymes so splendic.

He is very imaginative
Whatever he touches is creative
It's art at high spirit
His thinkings are witch butterflies
He paints whatever is in his mind
By words, paints, brushes and dyes
All are pleasing to eye.

He had shown light and darknes
Black and white to redress
He has bequeathed his arts earnestly
To benefit us repeatedly
In print, picture, sound and Ceedees
His fame will reach far and wide till eternity.

He is in his twilight stage
Yet, he does not seem to age
His writings still speak of a sage
His poems young, fresh and vibrant made
He is a master of art usage
To persuade people to strive for a golden age.

Oh, Saya Dagon Taryar
You are a real star
Master of arts and literature
Your creations are bright and brilliant ever
Sharp and shining with ardour
You reside in the hearts of all art lovers
Churning out peace, pleasure and power
We're ever grateful for your creativity and charity (cetana).

In honour of Dagon Taryar's 88th Birthday on 11th May 2007
Yoe Way Htet (2007,in Ma-Hay-Thi magazine, May 2007 issue)

Translation by Dr Maung Maung Nyo (5.5.2007)

Two Royal White Orchids

Two Royal White Orchids
(thazin hna khet)

A lady friend of mine in Kyaikhto
Sends me a special gift solo
As a mark of her friendship
Clipped from the heights of tallest trees
That is two white orchid flowers for me.

“Oh, so beautiful”, I murmur
Those clean lilywhite flowers
Closely set with poetic posture
And green emerald stalk so tender
Those silvery white flowers seem teasing
Captivating you in succession.

One orchid flower
I offer it with Cetana (good intention)
To Buddha image flower vase
Plant it there and serve homage
Another one I place it
On my head for grace and groom
Then, at night with the moon
I meet my lover in my bedroom
We become lovebirds very soon
Playing pretending bride and groom.

In the next morning
When sunbeam enters the window
I wake up and look to Buddha image patio
Saw with my own eyes so clearly
The orchid in the flower vase is
Still fresh, fragrant and frisky
Yet, that on my head is easily
Fallen on the bed sheet
Torn tattered and tweezed
Why was it so tweeze
Why to my flower please?

Dagon Taryar (Taryar magazine 1947)
Translation Dr Maung Maung Nyo (11.4.2007)

Deception

Deception
(htin mi hmar)

Early morning
my beloved informed me she's coming
I sat at the window, ornament of my dwelling
putting my hands to the chin and waited.

In my heart
I was anxious empty and exhausted
missing her longing her and tired
liked to weep and wail, but held on
with uncertain expectation.

Summer weather showed
brown golden old leaves
falling to the gentle ground whirling
shuffling shuttling and making noises
like those of my lover's, May's footsteps?

To the road head
turned my neck and looked at
suddenly the green dark woods had
flashed showing the flame tree flowers
bright red and brilliant altogether
clear, clean and shining there
"is it May's silk umbrella?"

Suddenly
dark clouds ran away
dusky blue brown grey colour too
as the sun appeared to brighten hue
"is it May's smile, true?"

Deceived
blurry and unfocused indeed
half giddy and half unconscious
waited weakly wearily and wondrously
but my beloved May was hard to come to me!

Dagon Taryar (Taryar magazine 1949)
Translation Dr Maung Maung Nyo

Self Banishment to the Meza

Self Banishment to the Meza
(mimi ko ko meza thoh poh chin)

Once in the Burmese history
The king was very angry
So, he issued an order without plea
For Poet Laureate Letwethondra
To be banished to Meza*

As for me
No body ordered it so
It’s just my wish and I go there
And live in the modern Meza.

This Meza is situated
Far away from any tar road head
Bounded by a field on one side
And a forest and mountain on the other side
Wide blue sky hovers right above
And green grass lands everywhere
In the lake water two suns reign
Pearl on rising and gold in evening
Sun disc moon disc sparkling in the lake
So are the glass blades and flakes
Thus a revolving kaleidoscope is made.

Stars moon and sun coexist
With earth shrubs sky trees and hills
Light and darkness are original
No cover or hiding intentional
Really simple and upright
All genuine inside
Thus nature is wise.

In one place
A field stays in front of a nearby stream
That flows screaming towards the Hlaing river
Snaking between field’s borders
Fishes fly crabs climb over the raised boundaries
And near the pond bitter rhubarbs are found
Field watercress abounds; “Pluck it if you like to eat”
Said the old Karen chief that I heard with great relief
His plum trees compound gate situated a crow’s fly away
On the sticky muddy way that I walked back
It was quiet and peaceful.

A gale brings rain readily
Fills field with water that appears golden and silvery
Emerald diamond colours of clouds
Green shreds and emerald blocks floating
In the sun sparkling and shining, graying at night
Moon dust stardust buds of jasmine and “Morning Glory”
Swimming in water splashing and splattering
They have been alive well and wriggling
Making the field at water edge white and flashing.

During the season of rice transplanting
Fields are full of water with rain clouds hanging
Daily wage earners, the women rice planters, bending
Raising their longyis’ lower ends, move about
Wearing long helmets, the gadoos or bamboo hats, the kha-mauks,
It’s about their life I painted; full of hue and colours
It’s so beautiful ever.

At daytime, it’s an open field
Strong wind blows through freely
With curved beaks scratch the earth greedily
Searching food and quacking gurgling screaming swiftly
A group of ducks waddles in the shallow stream
Sounds of cocks, hens and ducks mingling
At night croaking of toads and frogs lingering
With those of insects dragon flies and crickets shrilling
No moment of silence, it’s the jungle scream
It is so amazingly pleasant.

This Meza is an island
Situated in the pleasant country side
I’m quite happy
No company for writing, or for reading
No critic or opponent attacking
No order and no application
I’m unknown, no one knows me
No adversary no war
Only fresh and wild nature
It is free land, a peaceful land.

* It was during the reign of King Sinbyushin in the 18th century that minister U Myat San, also known as Poet Laureate Letwethondra, was banished to Meza that was a secluded far away village in northern Burma, now situated in the present Kachin State of Union of Burma. Since then, a Meza or the Meza means a banished remote place in Burma.

Dagon Taryar (Moeway magazine 1986)
Translation Dr Maung Maung Nyo (5.4.2007)

The Heartbeat

The Heartbeat
(yin deir ga khon)

Fluttering
Flustering feeling flat and fainted
Exhausted and excited
Palpitating panicky and agitated.

One mid day around
While I was roaming town
In one street corner shop I found
Her standing, I looked hard and long
Ashamed astonished and dumb-founded.

“Oh! Beauty, Hla Kay Thi”, I muttered
Like black clouds hovering ominously
Twisted tress of her hair arranged coyly
From the high blue clouds in the sky
She smiled sweetly like silver stars
Those bright eyes looking at me
Sparkling, scintillating shining like emeralds.

When young
At life commands one morning
Under the shining sun beams
We enjoyed love and daydreams
Those pictures come back in streams
Making misty past hard forgetting.

Now standing in front of me
Slim strong smart and sexy
Even after marriage she is still pretty
More and more beautiful in reality
Resembling early buds of flowers in rainy season.

“I’m going”, said she
Smiling sweetly with a kind glint
Hinting farewell to me as she sprinted
My heart flutters, splatters and sinks.

Fluttering
Flustering feeling flat and fainted
Exhausted and excited
Palpitating panicky and agitated.

Dagon Taryar (Taryar magazine, 1948)
Translation Dr. Maung Maung Nyo (3.4.2007)

Heartthrob Jubilee

Heartthrob Jubilee
(yin khon than yatu thabin)

Ten twenty years
Thirty or forty years ago
Young vivacious and attractive also
Youthful and so lovely at first sight
Brown piano and nails red bright
Really thrilled and excited.

Fragrant and captivating
Love makes her faking smiles and wiles
Taught me about her laughs and cries
Understood her likes and lies
Her weaknesses, strengths and styles
Experienced life’s downturns and designs
Bright shining stars and moon at nights
Enjoyed to walk together with high heads.

Boats and sampans lurching
Steamers and pontoon bridges creaking
Pony carts and trains bumping or fleeting
Suffering motion sickness, still walking on the beaches
Collecting “flame flowers”, roaring in darkish blue niches
Riding motorized launches snaking through floating islets
Galloping gliding and speeding, splashing fresh water droplets
Making misty far mountain ranges pop nearest
Gazing and eating sour Shan rice at rest
Smelling fragrant pine and Tamar (Nim) odours
Enjoying sight of yellow sunflowers all over.

In the shades of jungles and mountains
Lake, islands and water fountains
Glassed sidewalks, caves and dark terrains
Sweat-less, fresh and smart, yet dusty and dark the same
Sounds of Saing and accordion reined
That of Ozi and gongs acclaimed
Moved in the crowd and giggled plain
Cuddled and chuckled at the steps of lion mane.

On white and black squares
Of bathroom we mumble
Assemble red stalked lotuses at Saturn corner
Poured water over Buddha image to be drowned
Clutching happily African daisies abound
“Now, come Thanakha seller” she howled
Bargained and bought somehow
Holding salted Chinese plums in a bowl.

Friends agree fondly
Adversary frown, however, old mates renewed
Sweet smile reserved only for the people
No different from me on comparison
Same belief and similar psyche
No one can divide us, oh, never parting thee!

Dagon Taryar (1979)
Translation Dr Maung Maung Nyo (30.3.2009)

Mother's Image

Mother's Image
(mi khin yoke tu)

Sine the emergence of first human
It diverges into man and woman
They are different from each other
In each nature and appearance
No resemblance in creation.

Woman
Owns a womb for special purpose
It enables her to deliver a fetus
To be conspicuous biologically and physiologically
It blooms so many living flowers.

Love begets love
Intimacy ensues resulting in
Fertilization and conception
Beginning in summer the zygote prospers
Grows and matures in stages
Cells proliferate to make tissues and organs
It ultimately forms a new human being.

Mother is…
Making a human image it creates
To be called a sculptor definitely.

Mother is…
Drawing lines and fixing colours for a human
Rightly be called the draw master.

Mother is…
Making a shelter for a human-elect
She shall be known as nature's architect.

Mother is…
Teaching noble ideals and ethics
She is fit to be an engineer psychologist.

Mother is…
Providing food and nutrition
She deems to be a doctor.

Thus, she shoulders so many burdens
Without any break and doldrums
It makes her noble and sumptuous in glory
Mother! I pay homage to thee for eternity.

Dagon Taryar (Lon ma lay magazine 1985)
Translation Dr Maung Maung Nyo (31.3.2007)

Village Maiden

Village Maiden
(taw ei tha mee)

Azure
Blue sky beautiful in brownish hue
On the eyes rule the blue lines.

At dawn
Found on yellowish golden cheeks
Full round fresh reddish mounds
That is so rosy and attractive now.

Woods and mountains
Ravines and bushes in train
Arranged disorderly on the plains
Fruits and vegetables in skein
Well grown and fresh skinned maidens
Resemble naturally pretty women.

Flowing continuously
Clearly and cleanly with freedom
Rivers and streams of Kanbawza
All visitors are welcome warmly
Heartily and sincerely with abundant
Genuine smiles on their lips.

Dagon Taryar (Taryar magazine , 1947)
Translation D Maung Maung Nyo (1.4.2007)

First Padauk Flowers

First Padauk Flowers
(Padauk Oo)

"Oh, so beautiful... "
Branches heavy with dangling flowers
Golden buds and yellow blossoms everywhere
Dainty delicate and pretty prettier
It was when the first padauk flowered.

"See, See, there... it flowers"
Shouted in joy from many door openers
Talking and running helter skelter
Under the yellow padauk tree they fled after
Collecting and colliding fallen flowers.

So greedy and dumb men
Some jumped on the tree and hacked it
Cut branches and twigs
Divided swiftly and snatched quickly
People mixed and mingled madly.

Because of snatching, catching and smashing
Padauk flowers were trampled and crushed
Leaving dark green leaves and stumps
In an unorderly dump.

I was thinking to cover
My beloved dark hair
With choicest golden flowers
As ornament by her dear lover, I.

Under the brokn branches
I stood and glanced
Observed a blossom ready to pick up
Heard, "Oh, sir, I just wish
To offer it to Buddha if..."
So saying competing with full of vigour
Our hands clashed clutching each other.

Dagon Taryar (Taryar Magazine 1947)
Translation by Dr. Maung Maung Nyo

Padauk = Pterocarpus Indicus

The night the star falls

The night the star falls
(kye kyway thaw nya)

That night ...
Ko Tin Aye told me on phone,
"Ko Tin Aung passed away", my heart ached
"oh, a star has fallen...", i said, dazed.

Next day in the morning
Dr. Ba Tun and Ko Tin Nyunt
Came in to discuss what to do
Joining us at south okkalappa
Reminding us that "He was a people's writer!".

As he had told me before
"His body be cremated, his ashes'll be
entomed," I suggested
Everybody accepted in a body
And it was agreed.

I was instructed
To construct a tomb's model
I did well happily
His life, his philosophy
To be enshrined by architecture
At big base black marbles structure
Snatched from the remnants of Hmaing's tomb
Climbed upwards tapeing dome
One scarlet layer, then uppermost gold
The tip holds a glittering star!

The base denotes
Broad big masses of people
Black signifies deepest united force
Red means young militant activity
Star gleans for noble high ideal
All feel satisfied and yield
Architect Saya Shwe agreed to build.

At Kyandaw cemetery
1978, beside Ko Aung Gyaw's tomb
Bouquets of flowers aplomb
Teenage girls dare each other
Don flowers on their bosoms to my amazement
Reverend saya shin recited dhamma sacrament
That ascended in the air blessing
Kyandaw cemetery dressed in echo.

After entombing
Groups of relatives and friends
Paid respects and i, his sincerely
Adorned the fragnant red
"thaw-ka flower" Ko Ohn had handed
to his grave.

Bhamo Tin Aung
So well known among people
I do honour you!

(I almost cry whenever i read this poem. Bhamo Tin Aung was such a selfless, pennyless, dedicated, highly talented writer who lived for his country and people alone.)

Dagon Taryar (2.4.1998)
Translated by Dr. Maung Maung Nyo

The Sculptor

The Sculptor
(ba bu saya)

Of human
Qualities and psyche
To be strewn clearly and correctly
Hew and chip nicely, deftly
Let it in details finely and smoothly
Grind surely and beautifully
Undo grooves and curves sensuously
Lock joints, halves and grafts carefully
Make sure of balance and stability
Each and every part in unity
To be matchless, spotless and brilliant
So will be the sculptor extraordinary!

Dagon Taryar (1959)
Translation by Dr. Maung Maung Nyo (17.3.2007)

Walking in the rain

Walking in the rain
(moe ye hte lan shauk chin)


In the rain
Remain invisible, dare so
Indivisable, "well, let's go"
Splash low this side pour forth other
Water forms waves and flakes of pearls
Makes quick runs and kicking curls
Chipping, frisking dark and blurred.

In the darkness
Flashes a lightning
Gnarling rootlets of "kokko"
Floating lifeless limbo
Snatching a headless fungus "hmo".

Between the old brick buildings
We wade and wander looking
Downpours forced us floating
Torrents and waves we dare clutching
Clasping and hugging in the rain
Grasping tight we remain.

At the end of road
Anxious and frightening episode
Lightning soaks half darkness
"Let's be pushed helpless thither
Watery windy rain freezes us sure
My warm hands will frisk you tighter".

Dagon Taryar (Taryar magazine, 1949)
Translation by Dr. Maung Maung Nyo

Resistance

Resistance
(taw hlan hmu)

As summer enters
"padauk" flowers in gold
Bloomimg branching bunches bold
Behold the golden and buddy molds.

Along the river
Summer disappers and cool rain showers
Disdain and discard hot beginner
"padauk" flowers wear top honour.

The golden padauk flowers
Rather boldly,though skyward to be
So adventurous and uncowardly
She blossoms rebelliously.

Dagon Taryar (1941)
Translation by Dr. Maung Maung Nyo

Padauk = Pterocarpus Indicus

Let's go to Tahiti

Let's go to Tahiti
(Ta hi ti thwa ya aung)
(poet's escapism)

Mango flowers
Withered and ruffle down red yellow
Shuffle low around water boundary
Scuttle down along sea domain
Tahiti is its name.

Oh...look around
Worn down by sun
Stunned hidden mango leaves
Bleached and clad in toto Gauguin red
Fed Tahiti pleased.

On that island...
Bland preaches and damned speeches
Grand political niches are banned.

Of human life
Superficial luxury and rites
Invented humour to romantic strifes
Devoid of movie and likes.

Grandmother's nagging
Never ending ever hacking
Her swearings were lacking
Nesting birds' chirping
Heard charming lurking.

Under the mosses and ferns
You can toss and darn snakes
Make great fun and raids.

Champagne and wine altogether
Disdained defined for coconut water
A drink powers you drunk
No bother, slumber on sand as bunk.

If hungry
Ferry the branch of bananas
Parry the covering skins asunder
Devour vitamins, minerals and nutria
Eat to your content altogether.

Anything more?
Oh, cool and quiet under the bough
So are we duo hand in hand?
Or tend to sing at liberty
At loud voice until shrill and soliloquy!

What more you want?
Under the cool and quiet bough
Kept eyes half-closed so
Romantise and find rhymes
Lie for poetry and crazy times.

How are you, May?
Away from pretentious men
Let's tend towards the island
Hand in hand, then, "tell me when?".

Dagon Taryar (Shumawa magazine 1949)
Translation by Dr. Maung Maung Nyo

photo credit

The greenish diamond-velvet farmland

The greenish diamond-velvet farmland
(Sein Kadipa Yeikmyon)

This emerald meadow
Endless in morning snow
Sparkling diamond,glass and stones
Blurry, bright and blinding shone
Diamond? glass? emerald? other jewel?
Uncertain of their nature all that well
Earth and heaven swell with blue sky
Greenish hue and yellowish blue contend
This is true, my land, my farmland!

My great father had
Handed me this farmland
That extends greenly to the mountain range
Strangely jade green at night,viper green in daylight
Golden sheen in the morn and pinkish at twilight
Borders of farmland are pastures all right
Very wide and real grand
Well! it's my farmland extending to the horizon!

Dagon Taryar (January 1993, in Kalya Magazine)
Translation by Dr. Maung Maung Nyo

The last day of her majesty

The last day of her majesty
(ma phaya ei nauk sone nayh)
(A story of 1789 French Revolution)

Through the veils of window
Lo and behold! myriads of roses blooming in the garden
Then, in summer they withered, discoloured and unreddened
Young Japanese cherries were ordered and planted
She sipped the Italian vintage wine as wanted
So asleep in the lap of luxury
She is that famous French queen Marie.

Her dresses
Were made of silk and satin of Sina (China)
So was star-studded shoes from India
So was the coats made of fur
Of foxes that live in the north pole so far
So was ordered from Sahara
The cheese made from the milk of camel mother
To be tasted and devoured with pleasure
In the abode of the king's palace that glittered.

In this country
If people are starving due to famine
No bread to eat and dine
People marched to protest and demanded
"Give us bread, or we'll be dead".

On hearing the people's protest loud and clear
She whispered, "What’s the matter?"
The ministers answered in the din
"They are demanding bread, our queen."
"Then, it's not a problem,
Give them cakes, if no bread left!"
That's her advice not in jest.

In this country
People united and became more powerful
They rebelled and their revolution became successful
They guillotined the king and queen to be eventful
So was the end of the story of unsympathetic and unmerciful!

Dagon Taryar
Translated by Dr. Maung Maung Nyo. (IM2 magazine, 1971)

Poetry

Poetry
(Ah Lin Ka)

At first hearing
It's loud in the ear
At first vision
It's blur
The thunder in the sky
It moves like a wave in the eye.

If you know how to feel
The highest art form is poetry
Whatever you hear, whatever you see
It's like echos in the sea
The sound of music touching the heart pleasantly
Gently, smoothly and beautifully.

Dagon Taryar (1938)
Translation: Dr. Maung Maung Nyo (2007)

The sacrifice

The sacrifice
(yit pu zaw pwe)

At the begining of the world
The savages desired to eat meat
They killed the animals as sacrificial rite
They're happy, they drunk and danced the whole night
It was such a sacrificial rite.

The sound of drums and flutes
Pollute the air since history began
These rites multiplied and never end
Even today it happens
Man tends to fulfill his ambition
Waging wars and revolutionsis't not the sacrifice in imitation?

My philosophy is
Derived from peace
For love, for culture
For world peace, is't a wonder?

Dagon Taryar (2003)
Translated by Dr. Maung Maung Nyo (2007)

The Red Star

The Red Star
(Kye Ni)

Lo and behold! o'friend
At east of this land over horizon
Broken a golden crimson
Overflown ruby nectar all round
Dipping red dawn abound.

Whole night...
Clothed tight in dark cloudy colour
But, now those darkest days are over
Our revolution has succeeded!
Harbingering light and life instead.

Dagon taryar (1947)
Translation: Dr Maung Maung Nyo (March 20, 2007)

Resistance in March

Resistance in March
(mart la taw hlan yey)

On the horizon…
All of a sudden, white flashes occur
It cracks and augurs
Stretches across azure sky with ruby nectar
Spread with strength to redden afar
A blur view of beginning dawn there!

Dim and dark
Stark blurred and quiet in starlight
River jetty rather not far away in sight
At the bank of creek peeks slow and quiet
A slight boat with a village lad
Clad in short-sleeved cotton shirt, he crouched
Focused he moved a load of dry grass
Plied with straw, covered en mass under
He lowered his body, render arms support and prone body
To gather from the inside boat, a lone machine gun ready!

Under darkness
Still and silent at the bend of creek
Mixed, mingled bushes, grass and twigs peak
At thick backyard, murky, muddy and sandy beak
A Fascist outpost stands neat!

At the bend of creek
He seeks immediately the beak land
Rowing and seeking closer then
Suddenly, silence is broken
Sending sound of strong gun fires
Reverberating through out the river.

Under the moonlight
Night is dark and tight
Clouds hover quietly
Moon smiles slightly and looks down
The world is brightly lit now
Edge of wide paddy fields
Periphery of thick thicket yields
Flickering moving lighted lanterns
Blue sky dangles and hangs
Round white ample loads descending
In bright moonlight we apprehend
Army rations from plane have landed!

A village was
Raided and burnt wickedly
Ravaged and ransacked ruthlessly
Villagers fled helter-skelter on dry barren fields
From smoky scorched earth they lived
Worn, weak and wobbled in feeble breeze
Carrying weakened sounds of dog barking in far reaches.

Starflowers
Scatter yellow on the ground
Mixed with old fallen leaves around
Half red half yellow circling down
Whirlwinds spawn them red to yellow
Sallow leaves in early summer galore.

Mature and old
Those leaves are discarded to renew
To reschedule a fresh system of new buds
Touting the white star in red garb.

Dagon Taryar (Taryar Magazine 1947)
Translation: Dr Maung Maung Nyo (19.3.2007)