Poems of Pazhanivel in English_Translated by Brammarajan


POEMS OF PAZHANIVEL IN ENGLISH_Translated by Brammarajan

26VathalmalaiJuly201501935All the poems of Pazhanivel has been chosen from his first and only collection called Thavalai Veedu.

The body woven by hands-Pazhanivel


Till the fishermen prepare to go

The fish turn into stars on the catamarans.

The catamarans resemble the lute that strums the night.

Its varying  strings

Tremble because of thirst

Covering the full expanse of the sand

The decorations of the threaded conch

Those who had both the sides of the coin with them

And a smile  dancing on their lips

Like snakeskin

crawl on the skin’s sand

As the urchins swim in the water


No one cares

About the pearl scattered on the ground.



Rare chance- Pazhanivel

If I had been a stamp collector

Or a collector of coins

Even if I had gathered clocks, torches, even match boxes

I would have been known as an achiever.

All these years

Vinyl records

Scattered in the house

How easy

They broke like moth eaten bones

The bronze vessels

Have become give away gifts.

The gun bartered for the balance in the toddy shop.

Taxidermied leopard skin

The locket with the tiger claw, the silver plate

All these turned into the base manure.

The antler has been lost in lending and is gone forever

As a collector of butterflies_

When I chase them all over the thur bean fields

What am I going to do with them.

Can grow the mating bull

that impregnates as it wishes

In this land

Instead of becoming a person of knowledge

Should do something remarkable

I should leave  in some city bus

First the crowbar and the shovel

Would not I?


Today is very hot-Pazhanivel


Today is very hot

The presence of water

In the city’s river

Is a comforting sight


But a cool bubble of air

Explodes slowly

As though it is the breath of the land

In the bus waiting to start

Green saree clad women

move here and there in search of seats

The bus waves  like a field.

Two blind men

Cross the congested lane

Stir and stir

With something resembling an oar

And swim.

With inability the traffic signal is weeping

Today too the temperature has touched  high


Today must also be a very hot day.

Unable to find  the shore the ship blinks motionless

The flags of identification

Droop  wearily

A fruit falls squeamishly

From the flag

Unusually the sun is hotter

Mirage of rain

Falls on the city streets

Flood water flows

The tired school girl who returns home

Gleans a little in the inside of her shoes

And in it she bathes the sun


Rushes past coolly.



Wise Saying_Pazhanivel

One who has been made ostracized in the habitats

Lusting the stones

All over the mountain rears peacocks of sculpture

The touch-me-not leaves chosen exclusively for the plumage

During winter

Play relationship with moss.

The plumage spreads to a grand size.

For the sake of the eggs laid by the sculptures

He scratches sleep with his chisel.

He never interferes with the rain when the peacocks mate.

Everywhere peacocks abound

In peak summer

They cry with unclosed eyes

The language he had lost when he left the habitat itself

It could be his breath.


It could be the love he had for the peacocks.



Loved Ones_Pazhanivel


Come you

If you are a connoisseur of Van Gogh

I will offer you a well grown field of sunflowers.

With the mountain backdrop

and the edge the sun.

Crores of canvass skies are also free.

If you can put up with my foul language

Will give you

The pond where the Seven Virgins bathed

The metal memoranda of Rajendra Cholan left in Naththam


The paniyarams fried in pig fat.


If you are some one

Who tells something resembling the truth

The astrologer

I will give the parrots fattening on the sunflowers

The people who perish later and the worn out future

The villages that will be the source of small change_all free.

If you can catch the parrots that taught me

The abusive language

Will give you the symbols of Chithrakulam

Monitar lizard’s  skin

innumerable manuscripts on magic


And pirandai pickle.

If you submit yourself for free drinks and snacks

Let me give you the red earth hue of blood.

The salt which the body yields

the overflowing tears.

Lands the peasant had lost

The left over hay is also free.

If the regular abuses do not hurt you_

Pest- stricken coconut trees

The cattle waiting to be slaughtered

The streets of marwaris

Cold gruel and tasty fingers are free too.


Dear friend

The parrots splitting the nuts

Sit cozily around the grand rims of the sun

If you can just stand in the garden and watch

Striking of the tin sheets

and shooing away

The parrot voices and shouts of wood,

In a short while

The sweet dumplings are  arriving

While we eat it

What if

Whoever we are

Since we are somebody

This should happen.


All poems are translated by Rajaram Brammarajan

Being published for the first time here.