Will you not leave anything for me,
Now that you have wiped out all marks pregnant!
Why do you rob the colour off the Ashoke blooms, red,
Born out of silence and neglect, clandestinely,
At a corner of the grey street?
Emptying your palms
You try to etch out pictures of rich, sensuous youthfulness,
Forgetting those marks of divinity on the white marble...
Where have you kept that unsavored glorious light of yours?
Why do you wear on your eyes, turned away from me,
Blackness of the burnt out taper-
Wishing only the courage of the breezy, deserted terrace
On a full moon night!
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The State Funeral
At least they have given her The State Funeral With tongue cut, She could not have spoken for The rare award, The police have done the th...
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Lord As a pianist whence Fully one fills a sense... An evening thinks perhaps it proper To become a starry night's divine lover... ...
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For the last few days... They are not talking... They just listen together-songs... Not songs proper even-some kind of music, instrument...
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Once the sculpted face Fell and with it fell Our pride Our demons We made love after that By the sides of our past. (For 'Magp...
kharap na,tobe achena.abohela makha duoranir moto.bhitor theke grohon koroni-ektu jeno kortobyer khatir e abdaar mene nite badhya hoyecho-praner tagide noy.original ta tomar kache thakle dio,bhalo hobe truti ta kaar bujhte.
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