| Daayeri Theke |

From a Diary..

Kobita r Agraahtishojye aami aaro oneker i moto,
du-chaarte bhul kore feli, chonde r bepare toto,
Obohito non uni, kono mastaar bolechilo,
shikkha r obhav aache - emon o shunechi.

Shob i oudhashinnye mene ni, karon shokaale,
bajaar er pothe, shobji r dokaan e, aarchokhe letush pata ti
dekhechi, ebong bhebhechi, jodi or moto lojjay,
kukre jete paartaam, jol er obhav e jodi shukotaam,
khure nebaar kicchu khon baade jodi benke jetaam,
chire portaam sthobdhotaay, holud-shobuj salader plete e..

A Translation

In the overeagerness of poetry, myself,
like so many others, make a mistake or two,
about rhyme, he is not so aware of,
some teacher had said once, education he lacks,
have heard that too..

I accept all such shortcomings, nonchalance, because,
in the morning, at the market, buying vegetables, i saw,
kind of benignly with my slant eyes, the lettuce leave,
saw, and said, if i could like her, shrink up in shame
just before being dug up, if i could bend out like her,
tearing myself, in the sounds of silence,
over the yellow-green salad's plate..





Oshadharon, beautiful poetry, by Utpol Kumar Basu, this time's Anondo Puraskar winner in Kolkata..More on him at http://www.boipara.com/bengali_literature_ebooks/bengali_poetry_literature_utpal01.asp

~amen..