Translated from Bengali by Jewel Mazhar
Harmony
(For venerable Amiyo Chakraborty)
The wild boar will find its favorite mud.
The kingfisher will find the fish of quest.
The black nights will turn white in rain.
The peacock will dance in a dense forest.
The lovers will lock their hands for sure.
Yet they’ll find no peace, no peace, no peace.
The lone passer-by will go back home.
White rice in the pot will bubble on
And shine like stars in the sky.
Forgotten lyrics of an old song will find home in your voice.
Lovers will lock their hands for sure.
Yet they’ll find no peace, no peace, no peace.
Parades will be halted at the barracks,
The hungry tiger will find the Nilgai as its prey.
Winds from countryside will bring sweet notes of feminine songs.
You two will find an abode in the same room.
The lovers will lock their hands for sure.
Yet they’ll find no peace, no peace, no peace.
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The Male Dancer
Stone, you also have another dance
Lying surplus deep inside of you.
A Rose in Kolkata
‘Oh, rose thou art sick’ ―William Blake
In my childhood I saw a girl with a red rose
Tenderly tucked in her head-bun.
She was lying next to a manhole
On the knife-slit pavement of Kolkata.
Under her breasts an open wound lay just like the red rose.
That’s why I feel the tender red rose that you gave me
Now pierces my heart like a cold sharp knife.
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Jewel Mazhar, Poet
Illustration : Rajat
