কবিতা | চিন্তাসূত্র
৬ আশ্বিন, ১৪২৪ বঙ্গাব্দ | ২১ সেপ্টেম্বর, ২০১৭ ইং | সকাল ৭:২৪

Roll Call and others ॥ Mujib Erom

M (ujib) E (rom) Oh My Keane Bridge Hawk over River Surma Clock of Ali Amzad Zalali pigeons… Cloud flown over from Meghalaya Cold from Jaintha mountain… I have kept within me the ancient stone Kinfolk’s hills Fountain for ever… So why feel an outsider—a stranger–feel as if destitute in my own home! Prostration to poet Oblivious I too have touched The water of that Jinai river… Did I stand on the Baushi Bridge? I cannot remember… I remember River- water flowing at ankle height Crematorium noon Mustard field Dazzling ankle bells… I will go again to touch and offer water on The poet’s grave… Roll Call Mujib Erom, Present? : Yes madam. Who calls my name? Who is doing the roll call calling my name? I am the exam failed, seated at the very back, forever late person…name not...

Marbles and others ॥ Thuhin Tauhid

Sigh I live with different types of sigh. Every day I walk out with them, and come back They keep company like my shadow When at night my sleep breaks A hot sigh burns me. In the morning A cunning sigh unknowingly reaches into my pocket, noon’s Fool sigh gets language in the evening’s park At night when I return to the room, the sigh Follows me like a detective .                                    Knocks at the door Marbles In my childhood, I would play with marbles, and would spend the whole day playing and roaming with marble-friends. At night marbles would become butterflies; I would move behind them miles leaving fields and corns… The marbles, which thrown out from my hand, would roll up into the holes. Playing like that in childhood, I never thought...

আগুনচাঁপার নাম মিয়ানমার ॥ সেলিনা শেলী

বিভাজনরেখা স্পষ্ট হয়েছে দিনে দিনে। নাফের হাওয়া, বিস্তীর্ণ প্রান্তরের জমিজিরেত আর শতবর্ষী কবরও তোমার থাকল না। তুমি কী ভেবেছিলে? তোমার জাতিসত্তার নাম এক খণ্ডবিখণ্ড আগুনচাঁপা? আর তোমার ভূমির নাম দাহকাণ্ড? ভেবেছিলে ধর্মের নাভিকুণ্ডে তুমিই বইবে লাশ তোমার পিতা প্রপিতা মাতা জায়া পুত্র কন্যার? কতগুলো বিচ্ছিন্ন...

A Miraculous Cavalier and others ॥ Chanakya Barai

Epitaph or Deed of Agreement Maybe, one day these silence of the century will be translated—a new chapter in the name of Mounota is added to your linguistics—if I fall asleep in that moss-green tomb, you can rescind the voice of the stars. And join on my epitaph in a soft tune—where immersion in the mountains— in the silence of solitude. That life I have lived, it is not but the bridge of the name of glories childhood, boyhood, youth and ….and the death is— just a splendid bird—picks up `the life’ from heart—the sweet grain. Everyday which light comes to us—drilling the concrete of fog—I make it dance on my palm like a spinning top. Thus I catch the earth on my hand, then see, the God remain unfriend of me. And you, a mirror imagery man—abandon some sign for shadow in...

Twin Gloom and Others ॥ Muhammad Amanullah

Twin Gloom The morning-breeze touched your soft arm, midday sun silently, Your hair spreads melancholia widow-song, violin tuned sad song; A helpless red ochre vaishnaba wrapper looking for clay-face at river bank in twilight  His eyes on the left side the forest. By the magical music you have sketch the face of day and night, Has one seen that silver sky is a loving place of the wildfire doe? I am a man flying by desire and burning swallow all the gloom And remain the moon-light tune and hum—and forget those paths of lightening time. As a sun-burnt scarecrow forgetting the pain of night, think by standing alone, In the north-west point the cloud-stream, On your wings pileup twin-gloom in Ashar The burning Furnace Your scarf is fluttering the sky— lustre of water in the Milky way or...

Bugle And Others ॥ Kazi Nasir Mamun

Wing’s Dream Is No More Standing at the leafy distance Me, a tree; There the bullets drop like the birds Bellow the shot-down shadow. Nothing remains for me to show Save the heap of sparse feathers. That’s how my dreams bridge the gap Between the bullets and the birds; As though a leaf had once Wished to be a bird; And the Bird, with his death, composed that grief. So, I tend to decide Not to make a flight Since it will seem, While I be back stirring the sky, That no more is the wing’s dream.  Of The Night Frogs croak In the quietness of the night. Monsoon plays drizzling on the tin-roof. I will swim like the sloughed-off first lovemaking When the sky crashes in torrents. Why are you lying like the sullen sky? Be a slick ocean. Playing with body causes water ooze. O leaf! Why won’t...

In Crowd And Others॥ Mamun Rashid

It’s Raining It’s raining and the drops of hidden tears trickle Silently on window panes. Far across the sky the swan, The bees of amatory, once carefully hidden, fly away. O, foreign lady of overseas, it has now brought over The austere depth of longing, riding o’er The sailing thunderclouds, amongst the crowded admirers, I want you, in solitude, in branches of Bakul and Palash, Ere the darkness, the golden memory calls in the moist Wind after rain, O my waiting mistress, shall our Extinct passion of love, the shadows of our burning hope, Be lost in the endless barbed wires, in the hide and seek childhood. Translated by Anuradha Paul  Living Abroad The faces reflected in mirror never speak the truth Yet we always rely on mirror. In the refugee camps alongside the border we are; Thoughts...

Combat and others ॥ Sharafat Hussain

Combat With touching my old schoolbooks I feel to get back in blusterous adolescence. When noon disappears as afternoon falls, How it felt, seeing the calm water in the afternoon pond, To be touched by the memories? Oh! My colorful afternoon You have forgotten all the turnings of the river Mind it; I had been your philanderer for a long while.     Forgetting Everything The distance with you getting longer nothing is taking place as desired. The sky through the widows up there nonetheless I’m unable to touch it. I’m getting out of me stepwise forgetting my own yards, weald with full of buds and forgetting metallic pains that had been in me. I get halted in me─ as I try to come out screaming merely, however, the distance gets enlarged. The green grasses of our city has been disappeared, sentinel...

Red Fly and others ॥ Mohammad Nurul hoque

Scratch of Sunshine Eyes of a man lying on the back draw the sky of the roof When the stars die the melting nights come to know– Poems brought waves during the strikes of rivers. We learnt that time that we shouldn’t ascend to the peak as very short it is; We know our handfuls of rivers had never risen to the peak. If you read the manuscript of fall in reference to the tress of relations You’ll see dusts cover up history, and wind also feels scratches of sunshine. Flocks of darks scavenges the rise up-to-top– Fall follows a principle– history of hate does too. Eternally-blind terrorism of light seemingly draws picture in the whole blue; Treating me as mad spreading night engulfs and eats me. The painter seems to be a cheat; the detective crow doesn’t find me before and after the...

নাম ॥ কাজী মহম্মদ আশরাফ

আমার নামটি খুঁজি আমি নবজন্মের পরবর্তী পরিচয়ের সূত্র খুঁজে আরেক জন্ম বিশ্বাস করা কি অপরাধ? মানব জীবন যদি পাশব আগ্রাসনে অনন্য স্বাদ হৃদয় তবে কেড়ে নেবে গ্রস্ত মানুষ আর তাদেরই কাঁটার বীথি সত্তার পুঁজি নিমেষে ক্ষয় শপ্তক্রিয়ায় তবুওতো জন্ম নেবে বিবর্তনে মহাকালে আরেক জন্ম বিশ্বাস করা ভ্রান্তি নাকি? আজো শুনি মুখোশ...