10-years after he wrote this poem in 1964, some quirk of fate introduced me to Yevgeny Yevtushenko.... his only poem I know about...
He had obviously written it in Russian - but not withstanding the "lost in translation", it has remained with me...
"I scarcely had one single care in the world,
my life. presenting no big obstacles,
seemed to have or simple complications -
life solved itself without my contributions.
I had no doubts about harmonious answers
which could and would be given
to every question.
But suddenly, this felt necessity
of answering these questions for myself.
So I shall go where I started from,
sudden complexity, self generated,
disturbed by which I started on this journey.
Into my native forest among those
long-troden roads I took this complication
to take stock of that old simplicity,
- like bride and groom, a country matchmaking.
So there stood youth,
and there childhood together,
trying to look into each other's eyes
and each offending, but not equally...
Childhood spoke first, "Hello then.
It's your fault if I hardly recognize you.
I thought you'd be quite different from this.
I'll tell you honestly. you worry me.
You're still in very heavy debt to me."
So youth asked if childhood would help,
and childhood smiled and promised
it would help.
They said good-bye, and walking
watching the passers-by and houses,
I stepped happily, uneasily,
through Zima Junction,
that important town."
- Y.A. Yevtushenko (1964)
6-year later, when I had joined my first job, I had tried to visit "my own" Zima Junction... and had blogged it here:
सभी जो साथ थे वो पा गए अपने किनारों को,
हम्ही बस हैं कि जिसकी उलझनें अब भी दिशाएं हैं |
कभी जब ऊब कर अपने बनाए आज से बच कर,
पुराने रास्तों में फिर भटकते अजनबी बन कर..
...किसी सुनसान झुरमुट से हमारा ही कोई साया
निकल कर पूछ लेता, व्यंग की मुस्कान-सी भर कर:
"मुझे क्यों भूलते हो, जब मुझे ही खोजते हो तुम?
तुम्हारी आत्मा हूँ मैं, शुरू मुझसे हुए थे तुम|"
सहम कर हम ठिठक जाते, उसी सुनसान झुरमुट पर,
स्वयं को आंकने की चाह से ये पूछ लेते हैं:
"सभी ने पा लिया सन्दर्भ अपना, एक हम ही क्यों
अभी तक ढूंढते, दोहरा रहे अपनी पुकारों को?
...कहाँ तक ज़िन्दगी में भटकने की विवशताएँ हैं?....