O Maria, O Maria, O Maria o Maria,
Fruit cherry-ah, nee vareeyah,
Emailil love letter thareeyah?
Kadalliku, fishing net
Desam vittu desam visai (?) kaadhal valai!
Requiring little translation, but for those challenged by the imagination: one asks Maria the fruit cherry if she will come along/send along a love letter via email? Because fishing nets are for the sea, and the Internet is for affection, and so from one end of the world to the other the nets of love are ravelled. What a conceit - ambitious and clever! It's like something a Metaphysical poet might have written as an undergraduate on purple hearts. A dissolute teenage John Donne having taken leave of his habitual sense of irony and complication and brittle intensity (the gem of the lot, Szerelem). Okay, it's actually ridiculous. But I love that people can think up stuff like this and get A R Rahman to set tunes to these words.
Anyway, for best results I include the text of my personal Donne favourite. It's not a love poem, except in the way Donne manages to sexx up everything, including death and religion. If you sometimes wonder why people ever think of religion as anything beyond an obligation of the social contract, Donne really sort of validates the spirit of the sacred sentiment, giving fresh depth and meaning - and beauty, I daresay - to the individual yearning for the unknown.
Batter my heart, three person'd God; for You
As yet but knock, breathe, shine, and seek to mend;
That I may rise, and stand, o'erthrow me, and bend
Your force, to break, blow, burn and make me new.
I, like an usurped town, to another due,
Labour to admit You, but Oh, to no end,
Reason your viceroy in me, me should defend,
But is captiv'd, and proves weak or untrue,
Yet dearly I love You, and would be loved fain,
But am betrothed unto your enemy:
Divorce me, untie, or break that knot again,
Take me to You, imprison me, for I
Except You enthral me, never shall be free,
Nor ever chaste, except You ravish me.
Now with hi-quality, lite-w8 mp3 snippets recorded at lunch by
And Batter My Heart, curiously and unerotically breathless.
current musix: okkervil river - the velocity of saul at the time of his conversion