-William Blake
O thou with dewy locks, who lookest down
Through the c1ear windows of the morning, turn
Thine angel eyes upon our western isle,
Which in full choir hails thy approach, O Spring!
The hills tell each other, and the listening
Valleys hear; all our longing eyes are turned
Up to thy bright pavilions: issue forth,
And let thy holy feet visit our clime.
Come o’er the eastern hills, and let our winds
Kiss thy perfumed garments; let us taste
Thy morn and evening breath; scatter thy pearls
Upon our love-sick land that mourns for thee.
O deck her forth with thy fair fingers; pour
Thy soft kisses on her bosom; and put
The golden crown upon her languished head,
Whose modest tresses were bound up for thee?
Haiku
-Ashraful Musaddeq
Powerless
Sunshine is smiling
laughing breeze chilly tranquil
powerless the room
Process
Now weeding out
Intercultural process
Fresh cool oxygen
Program
Looking for program
Over flooded memories
Thinning and cleaning
Purple
All on a sudden
Love blooms as orchid flower
Purple desire
The Blessed Pain
-Tahia Tabassum
In this sorrow and the pain,
I get my ultimate gain.
I get the tears in my eyes
And the feeling that is so nice.
This pain I get from the nature,
It gives me my soul to culture
And to get this deep sorrow
That I need must to grow.
Growing is a disaster sometimes
And the allocation of dimes.
I feel pain and the pain itself
To see the life which is now left.
It can make me more matured
And more part in my heart the gratitude.
The superb honesty with love is here,
You can search my soul obviously there.
