TrulyBangladesh.net

HELAL HAFIZ[1] Peddler Sufferings needed? Sufferings! Various types of sufferings Sufferings needed? Sufferings Red distress, blue agony, bright yellow coloured pains Pallid pain of green grass pressed by stone Dark ache of light I’ve multi-coloured anguish Sufferings needed? Sufferings Sufferings… Continue reading

SHAHID QUADRI[1] Senses (To Mahbub Hasan) Shalikh dance on the telegraph wire Palm-size leaves of Kathal tree Dawdling of light on the shrubs on the bank of the pond Here comes the Aswin My days emptied Why does the days… Continue reading

RAFIQUE AZAD[1] Be polite, apologize Dear pen, don’t be obstinate, learn to be humble Look, how these gentlemen got shocked At your stubborn behaviour , So, be polite, apologize modestly, with clasped hands Bow down to your knees, and tell,… Continue reading

MANIRUZZAMAN[1] Your Love If you fear dark death Then why did you run towards destruction? why do you role-play of stretching your hands In the centre of life towards different darkness? You keep sleek rays of the morning On your… Continue reading

MOHAMMAD RAFIQUZZAMAN[1] Doubtful Reflection Even the heart has illusion So all day long I call out, Hey Rafiquzzaman Where are you going? You remain speechless. Move towards darkness, towards life Without rest, in pursuit of deer From here and there,… Continue reading

AL MAHMUD[1] Poet’s exercise book is flying away It seems I was going somewhere, some other horizon, I turn back, there’s no one behind me I’m oscillating in the wind- blowing up, your affection As if is engulfing me. Both… Continue reading

ABU BAKAR SIDDIQUE[1] I can go on writing I can go on writing only about me all through my life This self-manuscript is an eternal epic. One day like a crumpled cold-stricken sinful person I knocked at the doors from… Continue reading

ABUL HUSSAIN[1] To a Connoisseur of Poems Don’t tell me, o friend, to write accurate poems. I do not have the passion of making a peevish puberty-encountering maiden fearless or ill-tempered fleshless lust of depressed old man. I do not… Continue reading

Senses (To Mahbub Hasan) Shalikh dance on the telegraph wire Palm-size leaves of Kathal tree Dawdling of light on the shrubs on the bank of the pond Here comes the Aswin My days emptied Why does the days are empty?… Continue reading

Kingfisher, Krishnachura and Manjumala I’ll love you, so I caught a kingfisher and kept in a cage, I planted a krishnachura in a tub to fill your lips with kisses I desired copulation, either in wings or in branches Manjumala,… Continue reading

A Poem of Kashbon The sky is the Kashbon, beside the river Children of Heaven play in the Kashbon I looked at the garden of white cloud sitting beside the quay Before feeling which was the sky and which was… Continue reading