Patinathar’s poem on life- Part 2 – Youth -Utarkurruvanam


 

உயர்தருஞானகுருஉபதேச, 

முந்தமிழின்கலையுங்கரைகண்டு

வளர்பிறையென்றுபலரும்விளம்ப, 

வாழ்பதினாறுபிராயமும்வந்து.

 

Then the teacher comes.

He learns the glories of his mother-tongue,

Tamil in her three shapes,

and how to write and count,

and growing up, resembles,

as so many say,

the growing crescent of the moon:

and thus he reaches sixteen years.(7)


மயிர்முடிகோதியறுபதநீல, 

வண்டிமிர்தண்டொடைகொண்டைபுனைந்து, 

மணிபொனிலங்குபணிகளணிந்து, 

மாகதர்போகதர்கூடிவணங்க.

 

Praised by the poets,

with fair jewels beautified,

with a well-grooms knot of hair

and wearing garlands full of humming bees,(8)


மதனசொரூபனிவனெனமோக, 

மங்கையர்கண்டுமருண்டுதிர

ண்டு,வரிவிழிகொண்டுசுழியவெறிந்து, 

மாமயில்போலவர்போவதுகண்டு.

 

he stands in front of women,

desirous and young,

fair like the love god,

and loses his strength-

while they, who are like peacock elegant,

devour him with their fiery eyes.(9)


மனதுபோறாமலவர்பிறகோடி, 

மங்கலசெங்கலசந்திகழ்கொங்கைம

ருவமயங்கியிதழமுதுண்டு, 

தேடியமாமுதல்சேரவழங்கி,

 

He’s unable to carry his desire,

he will pursue them,

he will embrace their splendid breasts,

which are like broad round pitches firm,

and he will suck the nectar off their lips,

and senselessly spend all his properties

with them.(10)


ஒருமுதலாகிமுதுபொருளாயி, 

ருந்ததனங்களும்வம்பிலிழந்து

மதனசுகந்தவிதனமிதென்று, 

வாலிபகோலமும்வேறுபிரிந்து.

 

And then the remnants of his disappear

in suits and quarrels, action, fueds.

And soon the pleasures go,

the youthful charm,

the fires of passion freeze.(11)


வளமையுமாறியிளமையும்மாறி, 

வன்பல்விழுந்திருகண்களிருண்டு

வயதுமுதிர்ந்துநரைதிரைவந்து, 

வாதவிரோதகுரோதமடைந்து.

செங்கையினி்லோர்தடியுமாகியே.

 

Riches are lost

and all his youth is spent,

string teeth fall out

and eyes will lose their shine,

his hair grows grey

and wrinkled is his face

angers and hatred of disputes arrive.

He will now hold

an omnipresent stick

in his cold reddened hands.(12)

Poet: Patinathar

Translated by Kamil Zvelebil

 

Part 3: Old age

part 4: Death

part 1: Birth

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Other Patinathar poems in my blog:

 

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2 Comments

  1. “Then the teacher comes.
    He learns the glories of his mother-tongue,….”

    —– well didnt happen for me…had to wait for vairam

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