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Three poems of Shahed Shafayet

Three poems of Shahed Shafayet


‘Shaishab jahar sathey joley stholey bhromi shikar sandhan? 
Ke shikhalo dhonurbed, bohitrochalona-charma 

The moments have begun to ring slowly 
In the radiation of sun 
Getting stop all the particles of hollow of a tree gradually 

And the waves then grasp the fossfl earth 
We had a way though- 
t had gone away to infinity as if 
Salty clay made huts both sides of it, On the bark there ar 
impression of palms e 
Still the child of fisherman hasn’t comeback from the eddy- 
from Pathraj 
In the rain plaster of dust wipes out 
A large glass palace has begun to appear in the sight 
A prolonged deep sleep- we were drowned, with a char 
From there when we had begun to get out 
Were breaking down upon our bodies soils, leaves- twigs
Productive tree of fruits in this deserted area 
Left the birth signs 

Going out a hunting when our father 
Didn’t come back- then it was raining with hail 
Beasts came with claws 
One by one our mothers had suffered miscarriage 
Millions of child had taken birth though-
In the skins and eyes there were lightning flash 
We are the very brother of them- there were enemy on the 
Turning a storm they undone the stone-made-arms 
Now they would become a wall- 
Legs of throne has made by the living bone and flesh 
Though he is missing — in his hand the power to govern it 
We the millions brother are his successors; 
Oaring boat 
Mothers harvest the grains 
is dead brother; 
We make deep quiver with the thicken skin of him 
With deep sigh we take it in if the storm occur 
After planting we would render the drum of wine, dancing 
In our cornfield 

Coming bick from hunting with millions tusks 
We return home-
To the master of huse! 

‘Ol gondoshollo- shirey 
GuImoraji chirey chirey 

Bikaley goirik-ghonta chhota raktomoy !’ 
End of the festival travelling the horses comeback 
To the stable 

The stable 
On the heap of hays 
With the red blood dot- bare 
Her vagina 
The slip knot of heaps beyond the words 
In the gallows his dead body as if exactly 

Into the air there are a very few lives 
Like a dancing mood 
Long graves and cruel rooms are hanging 
Perspired the wax 

The source of wax is shivering, rib of brick 
In vivid colors, on the walls there are terracotta 
In the sceneries of darken bundles 
It seems a heart rending cry- obsession 
Of dreamdancer 

The grave 
Piles of graves 
With twigs and tendrils 
The king’s mirrors image the farmer’s child 
There are roots and twigs and tendrils 

On the skeletons of graves 

By the help of wings It has taken a shelter 
On the edge of claw 
King’s shelter It Isi Has the child broken the mirror?
The day of cultivation is in the farmer’s quarter 
The spears would have been the blades of plough 
The dicotyledon plants would grow in the womb of fort 
May have a birth of son! 
The red water of ditch 
Into the womb’s water 
The plants have grown this verse
The day of cultivation is in the farmer’s quarter 
The ox and the children are dancing 
King’s mirror notices the farmer’s bride 
May have a birth of son! 
In the ditch into the womb of fort — into red water 
The plants have grown this verse! 

‘Meghtullo garh dekho lagichhey akashey 
Subarno kangura jeno bidyutprokashey.’ 

The smokes of the burnt grains has been seized 
By the blue of the sky, and 
Sweated mental stray sky 
Images of row of the tree- broken part- thickened
The door and the windows are open 
Under the thickened blood there is a dot of green 
The obsession! 

Bringing up the serpentine they have been vanished 
In the ancestral abode cut down the hedges 
peasant’s women have made a path though 
In this path Is as If sickle In a hurry 
The king and his women accomplice come 
Reduced breathe In smoke 
snatching way the sky the smoke begins to dance 
Flying the poignant sign 
The map 
The sign of ship in our hard days 
The river bathed in rains 
And the men and children of it livelihood 
When have drowned the boat into whirihg water; 
- Grind shows the red sailed window of tongue 
Cheering of the drummers have been heard 
From the other bank of the river 
And themother of poran majhi has settled down 
Her world on this bank 
In the full monsoon’S web there appears a insulated world 
On the creases of wall 
On the mirrors our image of faces are trembling; 
Under the flow-tide there is ringing a bell severely 
All the domestic balloons of earth 
Wingless, lifeless 
Become stand still by the attack of the another tempest
So are they refugee at all with their flesh- marrow- serum 
Those who are coming by merchant’s ship 
Purging these 
Geometry —labyrinth — diameter! 

‘koto shoshya koto mul, na hoy jahar mul, 
Hirokadi rajot kanchon,’ 

All the scenarios have turned to be so bright 
And concentrated 
The light glitters on the other side of the horizon 
This festival has taken place In this auspicious evening 
The fire festival 
Boys and girls bring the burning straw and fur 
In this very moment of fascination 

On the cornfields 
Keeping very low to see the changing of sceneries 
Flower of cabbage is blooming in the far setting sun village 
And there only awake the rural path still 
Traveler’s lantern 
Keeping the light on 
Snatches away the Bridegroom party’s last night 
From the garrulous yards 
Boys and girls are burning straw and fur 
So brightly 
With new proceed the utensils dancing night 

In a row of the bullock carts; taking with 
The well dressed bride the evening twilight 
Passes away slowly 
By dismay and mistake keep away something 
In the house which memory has taken up 

Just the same memory would try to trace out 
In the eyes of the baby who is swinging 
In a cot 
And rest of them 
If the dust and the tempest day returns 
The hanging twigs of the tree 
Would grasp it with organic intention 
And then 

The game of scenarios 
In the succession1 of seasons 
cloud of the churning of Season and sky 
Then It’s the men monsoons — 

Boys and girls would burn the straw and fur once again 
urfl1flg these with the utensils 
Before the rainy season would be finished 
The ploughing fallen field; 

There happens the glittering of luster in the aquatic geography 
The earth — in the whole earth there would be expanded 
Tomorrow’s agriculture-tech- device 
Far from the Life and without scarcity of animals 
There is the enticed traveling 
In what way the waves begin to play 
Come sleep and memory 
That would be rather virtuous this bestowing on

On the corn fields 
Keeping very low to see the changing of sceneries 
Flower of cabbage is blooming in the far 
Setting sun village 
The enticed scenario 
Turned as bright and concentrated; 

Shahed Shafayet’s Poem
Translated by Hosen Motaher



অনুবাদ,31,আত্মজীবনী,25,আর্ট-গ্যালারী,1,আলোকচিত্র,1,ই-বুক,7,উৎপলকুমার বসু,23,কবিতা,298,কবিতায় কুড়িগ্রাম,7,কর্মকাণ্ড,17,কার্ল মার্ক্স,1,গল্প,54,ছড়া,1,ছোটগল্প,11,জার্নাল,4,জীবনী,6,দশকথা,24,পাণ্ডুলিপি,10,পুনঃপ্রকাশ,13,পোয়েটিক ফিকশন,1,প্রতিবাদ,1,প্রতিষ্ঠানবিরোধিতা,4,প্রবন্ধ,150,বর্ষা সংখ্যা,1,বসন্ত,15,বিক্রয়বিভাগ,21,বিবিধ,2,বিবৃতি,1,বিশেষ,23,বুলেটিন,4,বৈশাখ,1,ভিডিও,1,মাসুমুল আলম,35,মুক্তগদ্য,36,মে দিবস,1,যুগপূর্তি,6,রিভিউ,5,লকডাউন,2,শাহেদ শাফায়েত,25,শিশুতোষ,1,সন্দীপ দত্ত,8,সম্পাদকীয়,16,সাক্ষাৎকার,21,সৈয়দ ওয়ালীউল্লাহ,18,সৈয়দ রিয়াজুর রশীদ,55,সৈয়দ সাখাওয়াৎ,33,স্মৃতিকথা,14,হেমন্ত,1,
বিন্দু | লিটল ম্যাগাজিন: Three poems of Shahed Shafayet
Three poems of Shahed Shafayet
Hosen Motaher translated three poems of Shahed Shafayet into English language
বিন্দু | লিটল ম্যাগাজিন
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