Showing posts with label English poems. Show all posts
Showing posts with label English poems. Show all posts

Saturday, August 1, 2026

Enough

 

I haven't heard the word in so long,
Neither in cash nor in kind;
It lingers in our language,
Yet nowhere in the mind.

I wonder what has become of the world.
The word still lives upon the tongue—
Only its meaning has departed,
Its quiet wisdom left unsung.

No limits, no borders, no boundaries;
No ceiling for our wants.
A craving divorced from every need,
Greed gallops beyond all restraint.

Until we learn to say, "Enough,"
No treasure fills the empty soul;
The richest hands remain outstretched,
Begging perpetually for the elusive whole. 

A sudden return

 


as I'm having my breakfast today
on the table I bought from the auction

I think of the eaters of the brown years...
what could they have loved,
what could they have argued upon,

how their lives were!

I am yet to finish my breakfast yet,
in my book of thoughts
I'm turning the leaves of relevance  

Elsewhere

 


When I'm in the office,
My heart wanders home.
When I'm sailing on the sea,
I yearn to be on the road.

When I was a child,
I hurried toward old age;
The old, in silent longing,
Turn back another page.

When tomorrow comes at last,
Yesterday steals my gaze;
Desire walks beside me
Through today's endless maze.

So I gather every moment,
Neither chasing nor afraid;
For life is not elsewhere—
It blooms where we have stayed. 

Thursday, July 30, 2026

Ashes of Desire

 

Ashes of Desire

the last deer disappeared
with the last villain, the tiger
trees and the grasses kept
the gardens intact
the air and the water and the sun
were all present
in the tableaux of artists
but there was no life, no insect
all burnt into ashes of desire

...

Les Cendres du Désir

Le dernier cerf disparut
avec le dernier scélérat, le tigre.

Les arbres et les herbes
préservaient encore les jardins.

L'air, l'eau et le soleil
étaient toujours présents,

mais seulement dans les tableaux
des artistes.

Il n'y avait plus de vie,
plus aucun insecte,

tout avait été réduit
en cendres du désir.

কামনার ছাই

শেষ হরিণটি হারিয়ে গেল
শেষ দুষ্কৃতীর সঙ্গে
বাঘটি

গাছেরা, ঘাসেরা
তাখনও আগলে রেখেছিল
উদ্যানের নিস্তব্ধতা।

বাতাস, জল আর সূর্য
সবই ছিল
শিল্পীদের
ক্যানভাসের ভেতর।

কিন্তু কোথাও আর প্রাণ ছিল না,
একটিও পতঙ্গ নয়।

সবকিছুই
কামনার আগুনে পুড়ে
হয়ে গেছে
ছাই।

 

Tuesday, July 28, 2026

The Thirst of the Heart

 


Here is almost the moment
the instant
there is no longer the dark days
on the fading horizon
the luminous nights in the presence
of the radiant stars…

Hear my dear, it has grown
to bless this lifeless body
with a beating heart boundless
like water flowing without illusion
those frail hands will unite the
sorrowful knot of dreams
the protected radiance will rest
in witness, write upon the table
of the waters the foams, the froth
white, bright, salty
the burning thirst thrusts upon the heart
an ache that neither dawn nor dusk can
make it sweet, the yearning to drink thrashes
upon the shore of distant waters

The Earth Bows

 


Earth, a ship, your forehead
all bleeding red
the stars, the water in the blue
pages can be hardly read
the naked shoulder low, heavy
tired, bent
the heart grows cold
wars are bold, proud
love weak, old

….

The oil has reigned over her body
with shifting shadows
she bows before the boys and girls
for she’s leaving destruction
her neck drowned in shame
as one weighs the souls of the dead

Extinction

 


What we have done to the world
if it could ever see
it would hung its face in shame
what noise we have hit the world with
if it had a pair of ears it’d
have the blue horrors
in the frame

stone deaf, the world cannot hear
a word of what we say
remotely blind, it can hardly see
the daily blasphemy

it’s a stage, it provides us space nevertheless
for the game to play out
with players who pop in and out
in a flame of rage for name and fame
for a moment of weakness
the screen goes up, it falls
all the characters know is to destroy, demolish
delete, disappear existence until it goes extinct.

Sunday, July 26, 2026

Walking along

 

I was walking
inside a screen
of a media or on a stage
I don’t know
it could be in a dream

I don’t remember the place

the space disappeared
it drowned, only the action
surfaced…it continued until
the legs were threatened
irs sound beat the eardrums
I wanted to stop, but couldn’t

if I stopped the limbs would be
severed it seemed, so I…
i went on and on
the flesh melted in the sweltering heat
if I stopped it meant I overstepped
into others’ domain;
there was punishment
if I stopped if I moved
but moving was
the better option so I found myself
walking meaninglessly, meaningfully
on and on, all alone, one on one.

Saturday, July 18, 2026

The Papa cool

 


Bob teaches maths
like Hàorán, Kobayashi,
François, Salim, Sampath.


In the midst of differences
The content is the same,
Like the name of the game.

‘Come to my school
they are the fools
come run run
don’t go to them
you’ll miss the fun

I know the logic
I have the magic
I’ll show you all the trick’,
Says each Papa cool. 

Against nature

 


Past…
hatred, violence.

Continents, countries,
neighbours, families,
lost in the land,
in the sand
of frozen memories…

living on the mounds
in the deeds of the dead.

Against nature
where love breeds like
a loving seed from the 
depths of destruction  

Thursday, June 25, 2026

Timeless Desire

All desires come with
an expiry date
the desire for that
scented eraser
or the friend espoused
that went out of hands
through the roughage of time;
time that never knew to
space times, constantly
rubbing, crushing the grinding
passage of time making
it a mesmerizing mess. 

Of what consequence,
of what significance
is the house built
by those lovers
infested now with a
murder of crows
eaten by grass, alas,
they don’t even meet
to help each other
at times of distress.

The soul, the self alone
has an infinite
shelf life, for as long
as it is there
in thin air, it lives,
it never leaves the breath
until it reaches death.

Là où s'en vont les vagues et les vents

Là où s'en vont les vagues et les vents

Ma rencontre avec
l'amour

se raconte à travers
la nature.


Mais mes paroles,
dites ou écrites,
parfaites ou imparfaites,
ne se dévoilent jamais.

Jour après jour,
je me demande s
ouvent

où s'en vont
les vagues et les vents.



Where the Waves and the Winds Wander


My encounter
with love

finds its voice
in nature.


Yet my words,
spoken or written,
perfect or imperfect,
never reveal what
lies within me.


Day after day,
I wonder still
where the waves

and the winds wander. 

Friday, June 19, 2026

নির্দোষী

 



আমরা দোষী।
আমরা
তোমাদের বাধ্য
করেছি ট্রাফিক সিগনালে
দাঁড়িয়ে ভিক্ষে করার জন্য।
তোমাদের কোনদিন আমরা
মানুষ বলেই গণ্য করিনি।
তোমাদের অস্তিত্বকে অস্বীকার
করেছি আমরা দিনের পর দিন,
তোমাদের দূরে, বহু দূরে
সরিয়ে রেখেছি।
কি অন্যায়, হায় একি অন্যায়!


এই যে আমি এই লাইনগুলো
এখন লিখছি কবি সেজে,
আমার নিজেরও লজ্জার
শেষ নেই আমিও দোষী,
 
আমিও দোষী, আমিও দোষী।

এই
আমরাই কিনা পূজা করি
অর্ধনারীশ্বরকে
?

তোমরা নির্দোষী। তোমাদের জন্ম
হয়েছে আমাদেরই মত,
ঠাকুরের
ইচ্ছেয়। অথচ তোমরা
বহিষ্কৃত
সকলের সাথে মেলামেশা বারণ
তোমরা সব জায়গায় থাকতে পারনা।
আমাদের মতন চাকরি বাকরি
করতে পারো না, ব্যবসা বাণিজ্য
করতে পারো না! কি অপরিসীম পরিশ্রম,
কি নিষ্ঠুর অবহেলার মধ্যে
তোমরা বড় হও,
তোমাদের কি দোষ?

এ হেন অবিচারের শেষ হোক। 

ঠাকুরের
কাছে আমার
প্রার্থনা রইল আমার পৃথিবীতে
যেন এই দিন আসে যখন তোমরা
সব্বাই আমাদের সাথে মিলেমিশে
একাকার হয়ে যাও। গাড়ির বাইরে
না, গাড়ির ভিতরে নিতান্ত সাধারণ
ভাবেই যেন তোমাদের দেখা মেলে।
তোমরা-আমরা এই ভেদাভেদ যেন
ঘুচে যায়, মুছে যায় আমার পৃথিবী
থেকে চিরতরে।
 

স্ট্রেইট আপ উইথ শ্রী অনুষ্ঠানে শ্রীময়ী কুণ্ডুর রানি কোহিনূরকে নেওয়া সাক্ষাৎকারটি দেখে আমি গভীর লজ্জায় আচ্ছন্ন হয়ে পড়েছিলাম। আমাদের সমাজ  আজও একটা সম্প্রদায়কে কত দূরে ঠেলে রেখেছে তাদের প্রতি গোটা সমাজই চরমভাবে ব্যর্থ, কেননা তাদের পূরণ মর্যাদা সম্মানের সঙ্গে বুকে টেনে নেওয়ার কথা।

 

The Innocent

We are the guilty ones.

It is we who have compelled you
to stand at traffic signals
and beg for alms.
Never have we truly acknowledged you
as fellow human beings.
Day after day,
we have denied your very existence,
pushing you farther and farther away,
keeping you at a distance.

What an injustice—
what a terrible, unforgivable
wrongdoing!

And here I am,
writing these lines,
pretending to be a poet.
I, too, am ashamed beyond measure.
I am guilty,
I am guilty,
I am guilty.

And yet,
are we not the very people
who worship Ardhanarishvara,
the divine union of both the genders?

You are innocent.

You were born,
just as we were,
by the will of God.
Yet you are cast out,
shunned and excluded.
People are warned against
associating with you.
You are not welcome
everywhere.
You cannot pursue employment
or build businesses
as we do.

Amid unimaginable hardship
and relentless neglect,
you struggle to grow and survive.
What fault is yours?

May such injustice come to an
end.

This is my prayer to God:
may the day arrive in my world
when you and we
live together lose or win
our battles as one,
without barriers, without distinction.

May we encounter you
not outside the car window,
but seated inside the car,
as ordinary fellow travellers
in the journey of life.

May this division between “you” and “us”
fade away,
and may it be erased
from my world forever.

Watching Shreemoyee Kundu interview Rani Kohinoor on Straight Up with Shree filled me with profound shame. It was a stark reminder of how society continues to fail those whom it should embrace with dignity and respect.

 

L’Innocent

Nous sommes les coupables.

C’est nous qui vous avons contraints
à vous tenir aux feux de circulation
pour mendier quelques pièces.
Jamais nous ne vous avons véritablement reconnus
comme nos semblables.
Jour après jour,
nous avons nié jusqu’à votre existence,
vous repoussant toujours plus loin,
vous maintenant à distance.

Quelle injustice —
quelle faute terrible,
impardonnable !

Et me voici,
traçant ces lignes,
jouant au poète.
Moi aussi, j’ai honte,
une honte sans bornes.
Je suis coupable,
je suis coupable,
je suis coupable.

Et pourtant,
ne sommes-nous pas ceux-là mêmes
qui vénèrent Ardhanarishvara,
l’union divine du masculin et du féminin ?

Vous êtes innocents.

Vous êtes nés,
tout comme nous,
par la volonté de Dieu.
Et pourtant, vous êtes rejetés,
mis à l’écart, exclus.
On met les autres en garde
contre toute relation avec vous.
Vous n’êtes pas les bienvenus partout.
Vous ne pouvez ni exercer un métier,
ni bâtir une entreprise
comme nous le faisons.

Au milieu d’épreuves inimaginables
et d’un abandon incessant,
vous luttez pour grandir
et simplement survivre.
Quelle faute est la vôtre ?

Que cette injustice prenne fin.

Voici la prière que j’adresse à Dieu :
que vienne le jour, dans mon monde,
où vous et nous
vivrons ensemble,
où nous gagnerons ou perdrons nos combats
comme un seul peuple,
sans barrières, sans distinctions.

Puissions-nous vous rencontrer
non plus derrière la vitre d’une voiture,
mais assis à l’intérieur,
comme de simples compagnons de route
sur le chemin de la vie.

Que cette séparation entre « vous » et « nous »
s’efface peu à peu,
et qu’elle disparaisse à jamais
de mon monde.

Voir Shreemoyee Kundu interviewer Rani Kohinoor dans Straight Up with Shree m’a rempli d’une profonde honte. Ce fut un rappel saisissant de la manière dont notre société continue de trahir ceux qu’elle devrait accueillir avec dignité et respect.