The Second Coming        (William Butler Yeats)

Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.

Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of desert
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reels shadows of indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?





[အေပၚက ကဗ်ာဟာ ႏိုဘယ္စာေပဆုရ Irish ကဗ်ာဆရာႀကီး W.B.Yeats ရဲ. အေကာင္းဆံုးလက္ရာေတြထဲက တစ္ခု (Magnum Opus/ Masterpiece) ျဖစ္ၿပီး Modern Poetry ရဲ. ေရွ.ေျပး ကဗ်ာတစ္ပုဒ္လို.လည္း သတ္မွတ္ထားၾကပါတယ္။ အဲလို Grand canon ႀကီးကို ကၽြန္ေတာ့္လို ကဗ်ာရူး ငခၽြတ္ေလးက Parody ပံုစံျဖစ္ေအာင္ စမ္းေရးၾကည့္ျဖစ္ပါတယ္။ အၾကမ္းဖ်င္း နားလည္ထားတာကေတာ့ Parody ဆိုတဲ့ စာေပအမ်ိဳးအစား (Literary Genre) ဟာ သူမ်ား ေရးၿပီးသား ေလးနက္တဲ့ ပံုစံ/ အထာက်၊ ခိုင္မာၿပီးသား ေရးဟန္ (Pronounced rhythm, mood, pattern) ကို တုပ ေနာက္ေျပာင္ သေရာ္ ေရးသားခ်က္တစ္မ်ိဳးပါပဲ။ Comic သေဘာ၊ Satiric imitation လို.လည္း ေခၚၾကပါတယ္။ ကၽြန္ေတာ္သိထားတာ မွားခ်င္ မွားႏိုင္ပါတယ္။ Parody စစ္မစစ္ မသိ၊ ဘာမွန္းမသိဘဲ ေအာက္မွာ စမ္းေရးထားတာေလးကို အေပၚက ဆရာႀကီးရဲ. ကဗ်ာနဲ. ယွဥ္ၿပီး ဖတ္ရွဳေပးၾကပါဦး။ ဒီပံုစံမ်ိဳး တစ္ခါမွ မေရးဖူးေသးတဲ့အတြက္ ဖတ္ရတာ အဆင္မေျပျဖစ္ခဲ့ရင္ သည္းခံေပးပါ။ ေကာ္ပီသီခ်င္းနဲ.တူတယ္လို.လည္း ေျပာလိုက ေျပာႏိုင္ပါတယ္။ တကယ္တမ္း ေရးခ်င္တာက Parody စစ္စစ္ပါ။ ေရးရတာ ေတာ္ေတာ္ ေပ်ာ္စရာေကာင္းတာ ေတြ.ရပါတယ္။ ေရြးေကာက္ပြဲနဲ. မုန္တိုင္းကို ဆက္စပ္ၿပီး ကဗ်ာနာမည္ကိုေတာ့ “The Second Storming” လို. ေပးခ်င္ပါတယ္]


      
          The Second Storming

Jamming and jamming in the narrowing gyre
The sheep are not allowed to speak to the shepherds;
Things sum up; the centre can hold (quite easily with fables);
Mere oligarchy is restricted to this little exclusive world.
The bribe-stained tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of fiddles drinks too much;
The peacocks lack all conditions, while for the bullocks
Mangers are always full of super-standard hay.

Surely stonewalling stereotypes are at hand;
Surely the Second Storming is at hand.
The Second Storming! Fluently or nervously are those words out
When an ominous image out of it
Stings our naked eyes: somewhere on grounds of pastures
A big cheese with swine body and the head of a toad,
A face blank and pitiless as a bulldog,
Can barely move its flabby thighs, (A worthy effort!)
With flocks of starving scavengers
Insatiably hanging around it.
The seeming bright side flogged to death
Having solar eclipses (mostly totally) now and then;
But now it is clear that those twenty years of the marathon “Deadlock”
Have fallen between two stools,
And what pest or pet or China-man, its massage session comes round at last,
Speeds up towards Burma to be happily dead?



(Note - “A big cheese”, “flogged to death” and “fallen between two stools” are idiomatic expressions.)




Khun Cho

October 23, 2010