You*

You*

Can i with ease
Place my weary fingers
Upon thy braided hair and say:
What a Beauty!
You can also tell:
If unwound it could be More,
Touché,
Touch it whilst you may;

Or
Out of your weary strife filled chin
Gathering a silvery drop of thy perspiration, if i can that do,
You can always raise fingers Thine
And say:
Do that not, you naughty.


{*Note : the clicked snapshot is Taken by me from a little magazine in which the poem/scribbling of mine is published, (titled "Tumi", meaning You). It is a transliteration of the same poem/scribbling, done by me.
The name of the little magazine is " Abong Baul", edited by Shri S.Basu.
"kobipakhya", 1423 bangabdo(1423 Bengali Year)}

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