Perfumed paper
-Milon Sabyasachi
I pray to God : I am the poet of sorrow, saying,
let the night of fate set off for the new dawn
that makes the old path flooded by the watery tiredness.
The path that tears-bathed with the sigh
of the warmed up reel
mingles in the sad air at the speed of the meteor
and the softened happiness deposited in the eyeholes that’s burnt by the fire of the time-won hardship but I did never lodge any complaint
for the breach of promise.
As if, in pitch dark with heavy storm
woods have been shattered
like the body of a young deer lacerated by the sharp nails of the ferocious hyena
my dreamy hopes and aspirations along with my life and its existence stand at stake now.
In this lonesome silent sleepless night of fate
by raising two empty hands with full of tears my prayer; God! Rather give me some perfumed papers today.
The blossomed flower has no match to that fragrant paper wherein lies the well decorated sweet colors
and to those colors even the rainbow bows down gently and the charming dulcet tunes to that paper’s warm touch the hell becomes Heaven playing flutes of happiness and at the city of Rome the ever known golden anklets of young Bangalee girl jingle
God! Rather give me some perfumed papers today.
-Translated by M Mizanur Rahman
My birth day
-M Mizanur Rahman
I solemnly salute Allah.
Still I breathe like others. Ah!
No matter my birth day is unsung
like other commoners of the world.
It me sing of my freedom in eternal song.
I was born on 15th October 1934 and now become old.
So I usually greet the old and the young.
I write poetry and prose for the people of the world.
I wish, from all bonds, the people should remain free.
Because everyone on earth expects mutual amity,
love, friendship, security
with no enmity.
On this occasion I say, never put the people in chain
because in that nothing you can gain.
