Fatherhood, Love’s austere and lonely office

Happy Father's Day to everyone who is celebrating or remembering their father today. We're sending our love to you all with a few poems ...

Happy Father's Day to everyone who is celebrating or remembering their father today. We're sending our love to you all with a few poems about fatherhood that express love, admiration, and praise for fathers, as well as some that walk us through the dark alleys of ageing while inspecting the ever-evolving relationship between fathers and their children.

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1. Those Winter Sundays by Robert Hayden

Sundays too my father got up early
and put his clothes on in the blueblack cold,
then with cracked hands that ached
from labor in the weekday weather made
banked fires blaze. No one ever thanked him.

I’d wake and hear the cold splintering, breaking.
When the rooms were warm, he’d call,
and slowly I would rise and dress,
fearing the chronic angers of that house,

Speaking indifferently to him,
who had driven out the cold
and polished my good shoes as well.
What did I know, what did I know
of love’s austere and lonely office.

2. Yesterday by William Stanley Merwin

My friend says I was not a good son
you understand
I say yes I understand

he says I did not go
to see my parents very often you know
and I say yes I know

even when I was living in the same city he says
maybe I would go there once
a month or maybe even less
I say oh yes

he says the last time I went to see my father
I say the last time I saw my father

he says the last time I saw my father
he was asking me about my life
how I was making out and he
went into the next room
to get something to give me

oh I say
feeling again the cold
of my father's hand the last time
he says and my father turned
in the doorway and saw me
look at my wristwatch and he
said you know I would like you to stay
and talk with me

oh yes I say

but if you are busy he said
I don't want you to feel that you
have to
just because I'm here

I say nothing

he says my father
said maybe
you have important work you are doing
or maybe you should be seeing
somebody I don't want to keep you

I look out the window
my friend is older than I am
he says and I told my father it was so
and I got up and left him then
you know

though there was nowhere I had to go
and nothing I had to do.

3. Father's song by Gregory Orr

Yesterday, against admonishment,
my daughter balanced on the couch back,
fell and cut her mouth.

Because I saw it happen I knew
she was not hurt, and yet
a child's blood so red
it stops a father's heart.

My daughter cried her tears;
I held some ice
against her lip.
That was the end of it.

Round and round: bow and kiss.
I try to teach her caution;
she tries to teach me risk.

4. My Son wants to know who his biological father is by Blas Falconer

My son wants to know
his name. What does he look like? What does
he like? My son swims
four days a week. When my son swims
underwater, he glides
between strokes. When he glides underwater, he is
an arrow aimed
at a wall. Four days a week, his coach says,
Count—1…2…—before
coming up for air.
My father had blue eyes, blonde hair,
though mine are brown.
My father could not speak
Spanish and wondered, How can you love
another man? We rarely touched.
When my son
is counting, I count
with him. I say, I am
your father, too. 1…2…

5. टेलिफ़ोन पर पिता की आवाज़ / नीलेश रघुवंशी

टेलीफ़ोन पर
थरथराती है पिता की आवाज़
दिये की लौ की तरह काँपती-सी।

दूर से आती हुई
छिपाए बेचैनी और दुख।

टेलीफ़ोन के तार से गुज़रती हुई
कोसती खीझती
इस आधुनिक उपकरण पर।

तारों की तरह टिमटिमाती
टूटती-जुड़ती-सी आवाज़।


कितना सुखद
पिता को सुनना टेलीफ़ोन पर
पहले-पहल कैसे पकड़ा होगा पिता ने टेलीफ़ोन।

कड़कती बिजली-सी पिता की आवाज़
कैसी सहमी-सहमी-सी टेलीफ़ोन पर।

बनते-बिगड़ते बुलबुलों की तरह
आवाज़ पिता की भर्राई हुई
पकड़े रहे होंगे
टेलीफ़ोन देर तक
अपने ही बच्चों से
दूर से बातें करते पिता।

6.पिता की इच्छाएँ / आशीष त्रिपाठी

Fledglings by Golly Bard

पिता जीते हैं इच्छाओं में

पिता की इच्छाएँ
उन चिरैयों का झुंड
जो आता है आँगन में रोज़
पिता के बिखराए दाने चुगने

वे हो जाना चाहते हैं हमारे लिए
ठंडी में गर्म स्वेटर
और गर्मी में सर की अँगौछी

हमारी भूख में
बटुओं में पकते अन्न की तरह
गमकना चाहते हैं पिता
हमारी थकान में छुट्टी की घंटी की तरह बजना चाहते हैं वे

पिता घर को बना देना चाहते हैं
सुनार की भट्ठी
वे हमें खरा सोना देखना चाहते हैं

लगता है कभी-कभी
इच्छाएँ नहीं होंगी
तो क्या होगा पिता का

गंगा-जमुना की आख़िरी बूँद तक
पिता देना चाहते हैं चिरैयों को अन्न
पिता, बने रहना चाहते हैं पिता ।