In my early blogs i had written about Black drongo (one of the commonest bird in countryside, black fork tailed perched on electric cables) as also Racket tailed (that are found in abundance on the outskirt of thick forests), White Bellied are not common and sightings are rare. This probably was my second or third sighting. It shares the characteristic of all other drongos.
Jean-Joseph Rabearivelo: a Malagasy poet
One day some young poet
will make your impossible wish come true
by knowing your books,
books as rare as flowers underground,
written for a hundred friends
Jean-Joseph Rabearivelo (1901-1936) was one of the prominent poets from Madagascar –an island nation in Indian Ocean along Africa, he was involved in literary revival that swept the island during 1930s. He was born in the capital Antananarivo (Tananarive), his mother was a Malagasy aristocrat who lost her property and fell into poverty after French colonization. After a brief stint in public school, he dropped out entirely and worked at various odd jobs, all the while reading voraciously and teaching himself everything he could about poetry. He was concerned about Malagasy language (the native language of Madagascar) and tried his best to promote it despite pressure from colonial rulers. French had placed heavy restrictions on writing in Malagasy; his poetry therefore is the product of a difficult life living under French colonial rule.To feel, believe, that roots push from your feet
and slide and turn like thirsty snakes
down to an underground spring
or clutch the sand,
and marry you to it so soon — you, alive
tree, unknown, unidentified tree
swelling with fruit you’ll have to pick yourself
Rabearivelo used Malagasy language as also his own unique version of French. At the age of 20 he published his first poems. He contributed articles to journals in his own country and abroad. A recurring theme in Rabearivelo's writings was exile. When all texts written in French were considered to belong to French literature, Rabearivelo supported bilingual works and proposed that Malagasy literature would recognize French-language texts composed by the Malagasy. To underline his point about the dual nature of the colonial culture, he wore Western style clothes under his traditional long robe. In part because of his commitment to both languages and traditions, Rabéarivelo was held in suspicion and banned from travelling by the French government. In 1930s Rabearivelo launched his own journal, Capricorne. A temperamental man he was addicted to drugs, death of his daughter accentuated the matter he spiralled into depression. Rabearivelo long sought to study in France – where most of his favourite literature originated, realising it is denied he suicided. He was only 37.
The Three Birds
The bird of iron, the bird of steel
who slashed the morning clouds
and tried to gouge the stars
out beyond the day
is hiding as if ashamed
in an unreal cave.
The bird of flesh, the bird of feathers
who tunnels through the wind
to reach a moon he saw in a dream
hanging in the branches
falls in tandem with the night
into a maze of brambles.
But the bird that has no body
enchants the warden of the mind
with his stammering aria
then opens his echoing wings
and rushes away to pacify all space
and only returns immortal.
Cactus
Here,
when the flanks of the city were made as green
as moonbeams glancing through the forests,
when still they cooled the hillsides of Iarive
crouched like bulls after food,
upon these rocks, too steep for goats,
they drew apart to guard their springs.
Lepers in finery of flowers.
Three daybreaks
All the stars are melted together
in the crucible of time,
then cooled in the sea
and turned into a many-faceted stone-block.
A dying lapidist, the Night,
setting to work with all her heart
and all her grief to see her mills
crumbling, crumbling,
like ashes in the wind,
cuts with what living care the prism.
Translation of his traditional Malagasy poem, “Lamba” (lamba- i read in the Net-means the fresh silk shrouds that is used to wrap deceased family member's remains taken from the tomb to be periodically re-wrapped. The event is an occasion to celebrate the loved one's memory and enjoy a festive atmosphere)
Few trees bloom without leaves,
Few flowers bloom without perfume
and few fruits mature
without pulp you have the foliage,
you have the perfume,
you have the pulp of the old tree
that is my race in lamba.
Your name rhymes well with legs
in this long that I chose
to protect my name of the forgetting,
in this language which speaks to the soul
while ours murmurs to the heart.
Your name rhymes well with legs
with the legs which cover
your transparent sharpness:
But you, you rhyme well with several other things in my thought.
Your appearance rhymes with rocks, in Imerina.
When there is feast and that the crowd goes on terraces:
With the strips of peaceful egrets
which come to arise on the forests of rushes
as soon as the sun capsizes.
Madagascar being an island has unique biodiversity, i distinctly recall watching a program in TV that was about Lemurs (the variety is nothing short of miracle). What is remarkable is that despite ethnic diversity and varied ecosystem Malagasy is the only language spoken by all inhabitants. Madagascar's neighbour, Africa, has 1500 languages. The island of New Guinea, only a third large than Madagascar, has 700 languages. Further Malagasy acquired a script only after colonial invasion and so the language was preserved through oral traditions. It is interesting to note that the written English script (introduced by welsh missionaries) hardly resemble spoken language. It is a question mark on competence of colonial languages, if it cannot even contain what is spoken how can it represent? It is clear that languages like Malagasy needed few more centuries to evolve and develop its own script. Socio-cultural losses through colonial invasions across the world is quite significant, in recent times market (very much constructed on western premise and defined by money power) has taken over the role of imperialism.
Some traditional poems of Madagascar with translation
Izaho vary ary hianao rano
an-tsaha tsy mifandao, an-tanana tsy misaraka
fa isak'izay mihaona
fitia vaovao ihany
The translation
I am the rice and you are the water:
they do not forsake each other in the country,
they do not part in the town
but each time they meet, there is truly new love
***
Tsy mba nahita izay fingadongadonan'ny volana aho
Tsy mba nahita izay fikatrokatrohan'ny masoandro
taro-daingo anie aho ka taro-daingo
taro-daingo an-tsefatsefa-bato
alaina tsy azo, avela mora foana
Izany zavatra alaina tsy azo
avela mora foana izany
ka zavatra tsy aritra indrindra
Translation
I did not perceive the resounding tread of the moon,
I did not perceive the booming gallop of the sun.
I am a young laingo shoot and a young laingo shoot,
a young laingo shoot in a rocky cleft.
Attainment is impossible,
abandonment is very easy.
That which is impossible to attain,
but very easy to abandon,
is that which is most desirable.
***
Iza ry zoky iry avy atsimo?
Ikakintsika Raberoberomanga
be vositra be tsimiranga
ary ny tanany roa feno vola
ho anao ho ahy koa
ka raha tsy omeny?
raha tsy manome izy
fa fatra-pamolapolaka antsika
dia tsy mba manana antsika
fa mitodi-doha
hiverina any amin'ny anaran'ineny isika
sy ny lambantsika
fa tsingala miavona isika sy ny saina
ka izy irery no tsy tia
dia mitoto koba isika hatavy
fa ny dada tsy mba lany
izay tia samy ray avokoa
Translation
Elder brother, who is that coming from the south?
Our father, the Handsome-one-who-speaks-indistinctly
he has many oxen, many long-horned cattle,
and his hands are full of silver
for you and for me.
And if he does not give us any?
If he does not give us any,
but cuts us off in earnest,
then we will have nothing,
but we will turn back and return to our mother,
together with our lambas,
for we are proud, like the tsingala,
and our spirits are proud.
And if he is the only one who does not love,
we will grow fat pounding our own rice flour,
for there is no lack of fathers:
all those who love us are fathers.
