An Arakanese Poem of the 16th century (10)

X.PYATHO

Poem by :Okker Pyun

This is a cold winter than last year,
Abright sun,but a north wind,and a mist
In the mornings like a blanket of wooly cotton;
And though I settle cloth screens round my shiver.
If only you were back with me again,
Wearing the gold chain I rememder well!
I can exactly see you as you looked
The morning when you left me and set out,
Your eye as large and liqud as s planet,
But in your air something obscure and lofty.
There is a region where sun never shines,
The icy valleys of the Himavanta;
The lake Anawdatta there overflows
The rock Tilangana the nount Trisana:
From those strange mountain places winds are blowing,
That wreak their cold on me and writing my heart
With longing for your safe and quick return.

An Arakanese Poem of the 16th century (9)

IX.NADAW
Poem by:Okker Pyun

FLowers of nadaw have come,but nights are cold,
Savagely coid for one who waits alone,
Her poor mind fluttering ,as she longs to feel
The close warmth of your arms consoling her.
Sleepless she lies now through the bitter nights,
Fixing her thoughts on you,but cold to the bone,
Why do the Nats who inhabit the Six Regions
Alow so cruel a cold to chill us here?
Night after night I have complained to them,
Till I am weary complaining; they do not hear.
Wherefore I raise my hands in the form of a bud,
Wherefore appeal over the Nats to Buddha,
To those two certain Shaps of Him that exist,
To Manamuni,which lies beyond the City,
And to Sutamini in Tavatimsa,
Which is beyond the cities of this world.

An Arakanese Poem of the 16th century (8)

VII.TASAUNGMON
Peom by: Okker Pyun

Thesign of Tasaungmon is a chilly wind.
Still festivals and fairs are in every village:
Those who would worship the Sutamuni
Set up a bamboo sixty cubits in height
And run a rope of lamps to the top of it,
With music and the rhythm of rural song.
That I could offer up such lamps with you!
Day in, Day out, mu prayers for your return
Have gone to the holy relics of the Buddha.
But no one hears me ,no one sends you back,
Though the north-eastern wind is cold and bites
Me though the blankets.Will you never come!
I hope no longer without hope exist,
A wretched woman, hardly touching food.
Taking no drink,in mind and body ill,
Utterly miserable, like one half dead.

An Arakanese Poem of the 16th century (7)

VI.TAWTHALIN
Poem By:Okker Pyun.


The last of the rain drops feebled aways:
Tawthalin's ripening glow spreads throough the land;
On every hillside patch of rice men laugh:
From every hilltop garden they scare birds:
Watching the crops go yellow ,they are cheered.
The farmer's house is gay with talk and friends:
Birds song and bee-drone swell the hum of gladness:
filled with all sounds the forest trembles with life,
And he that walks in it , feel no fatigue.
Ah, Love, all the-thoughts, all the old longings
Of so many minths rise and assail me now;
It is in the time of Tawthalin we two
Could lie down side by in this bed of mine,
I'd have you as close by me as the gem
That rests upon my throat; not the Abodes
Of Tavatimsa could yield me more bliss,
For we'd be indivisible and one.

An Arakanese Poem of the 16th century (6)

Poem By :Okker Pyun.
V.WAGAUNG
Wazo indeed was wet,but in Wagaung
A rain a torrent rushes out of Heaven,
Filling the hollows,falling day and night
On field-embankment,flooding every land
That lies by river fringe or forked creek-side
A sea-born rain that south-west winds renew,
Sucking it from the ends of adark sea,
Lit of no sun, but by the flares of lightining,
When thundercrushes louder than heavy weaves.
If suchrain ceased and paddy fields lacked water,
The offer of right gifts to the King of heaven
Could certainly invoke it back again.
But you nor prayer nor grief brrings back to me:
Your hearts is harder now than it was once:
Cold days are near -Oh can you still forget!!
Dear love,come back ! IPlead with you-Come back!

An Arakanese Poem of the 16th century (5)

Poem by; Okker Pyun.
IV.WAZO
Summers is far departed rain increase;
The sky was overcast of a sudden to day
And I heard thunder rumble and thought of you-
Your princess thinks only of love of you'
How the time hurries' Monks prepare for Lent
Already in wonderful monasteries of the Jungle;
The Sun-King shows himself no more in the sky,
And rain falls all day long,though with head bowed
I have besought the king of Heaven to spot it,
For such rain damps the heart with you a way.
My bed is cold and humid,half my bed,
Your half ,and I look on it ,I weep.
Lying awake,oppressed by anxious thoughs,
Listenung to distant drums and cymbals struch
far off in the midnight streets or temple-yards,
My sadness growing till the first cock-crow
And wild mingled notes of early birds.

An Arakanese Poem of the 16th century (4)

Poem by; Okker Pyun.
III.Nayon
Last month the Monsoon struggled to break loose;
But now free rasin-wind has set south west,
A wind of clouds, which rise from a dark sea
And hang in flods of black over the land.
Heavy showers fall now, rain spills on earth,
And country men look to their ploughs and cattle;
The birds.with theip fat fledglings close bahind,
And fly away,wing wing, happy and fond.
These sights the cattle plough, the waiting field,
The play last night of lightining in the leaves.
How can i live without you a whole year?
I am distracted with the dismal thought.

An Arakanese Poem of the 16th century (3)

II.KA SOM LA
Poem By :Okker Pyun.
The water feast is pest; a new moon waxes;
Still my thoughts follow you incessantly.
Everywhere doves are cooing:through the leaves.
The light seems every colour of gay green.
Or misty showers oass ocer in thin drizzle.
But all these only make my heart more sad,
For thinking I must see them without you,
So that three pasts of the night I often lies
Wakeful and wishing you were by me here,
That we might wather together the moving sky,
See the Rain-king narshall his thunder clouds
And make his lightning flicker;see the Sun-king,
In His rich coat of thousand scarlet flames,
Drive out and set horses at agailop
In ciruit of Mount Meru:on the summit
The King of Henven sits,smiling at this,
Until an amber rod in his left hand.
His right upon a sword,he shouts again.
At once the Rian -King summons back the clouds,
Darkens the sky,darts lightning everyehere,
And ashower rushing down settles the dust.

An Arakanese Poem of the 16th century (2)

An Arakanese poem of the 16th century
By:Okkar Pyan,
Translated By:Maurice Collis.

VII. WAGYUT
Wagyut is in ,the month of festivals,
The time of pleasures and gladness in the country.
Some make umbrellas,wrop up rice in jack-leaces,
All these they offer to pagogas and images:
Some observe also the Fine and the Eight Precepts,
Doing mush charity as befits a Buddhist:
Others betake themselves beyond the city.
And there together swill down pots of drink
Till all the drunk and some abuse each other,
Some fight among themselves and some are sick:
And other make cooked rice into pagodas,
Stand in aring and sing old songs in chorus,
Clapping the time with bamboos and with hands.
So they keep festival throughout the country,
And where in noise,confusion and music
Procession pass to the pagoda -hill.
Such was the end of lent.The mist still hangs
A half seen wrapping ,till the north winds blow
From the unmelting snows of Himavata.
Love, Love,had you known all my love for you,
Wouid you have stayed from me so long a while?
Come back-I beg you on my kneed-Come back!
Me through the blankets.Will you never come!
I hope no longer without hopeexist,
A wretched woman,hardly touching food.
Taking no drink,in mind and body ill,
Utterly miserable,like one hafdead.

An Arakan Poem of the 16th century (1)

By : Okkar Pyan.
Translated By :Maurice Collis.

I. TAGU La.
Let's me recite my prayer with lifted hands.
Tabaung is over and gone: Tagu be gins;
The New year comes;but I am sorrowful,
For you are far from me at aforeign court.
The rains will soon fall,but you have not written;
No Ward,No message of love has come from you.
Have you no longing to return at this season?
I heard bird sing in the forest to-day;
its voice was my voice ,calling you to come back.
What if the king of Heaven from his seat on Mount Meru
Should hear and transport you suddenly to me?
Would we not go together to the Water Festival?
This year the boat-races are on the Thinganaddi,
South of the city Golden Mrauk-U.