Burning the candle light of the heart
Do not remain sitting over there
Open the door of the soul
And go out.

No matter the boundaries far beyond
Let the life be full of pain
Widening on new wings
Do not get defeated.

Let the old path remain there
Build a new one and lead through that path
Open the door to the courtyard
And never look back.

Stories, never lies
stories, never dies
stories, never go in vain
stories, sometimes written in pain.

Stories, could be right or wrong
stories, make us weak or strong
stories, from future or past
stories, do not rot in dust.

Stories, some are really significant
stories, keep us near from distant
stories, make us strong and brave
stories, do not end in a grave.

The drizzling wind delights the mind
Snow white cloud floats in blue sky.
The white catkin has covered the forest
Looks like another world.

Morning of autumn is very charming
Drives away pains from the heart.
The martins are playing in the field
Rows of boat are tied in the quay.

The boys and girls are going to the school in groups
The shepherd is running towards the field with the wicker hat on his head.
Farmers thrive in the field with all the sickles
The village wife is washing the child, in the pool pond.

Water lily blossoms in big pond
Jasminum flumie, jasminum sambac and mimusops elengi flower fill with sweet aroma.
Can you ever see this sort of scene, elsewhere?
There is no limit of beauty in the beautiful Bengal.

Southern wind, Southern wind
Take me with you
I want to go
At the bend of that village
Where my heart has fallen.

I fell in love with
the golden paddy field
I fell in love with
the pond side surrounded by water lilies
I fell in love with
the moonlight wet playground
I fell in love with
the colorful village market.

When the sun goes down
Grandmothers start their stories
Fireflies burn in the bamboo garden
The jute field yields gold
Seeing this beautiful panorama
My heart exhaled.

Southern wind, Southern wind
Take me with you
I want to go
At the bend of that village
Where my heart has fallen.

Will you glance with silent eyes
No more talking,
There was a lot to say
But, they remained as it is.

The hand holding the sword,
The same hand holding the pen-
Enlightens the consciousness
The silence was broken.

Back in the womb of tomorrow,
On the banks of the river Kunur-
Oh Dukhu Mia came
Freedom of conscience awakens.

There was a dark night,
You were a passenger with us-
By showing light to the unfortunate Bengalis
Pave way the path to humanity.

Being radiant forever
We remain wake up in that fascination-
The scope of the light of knowledge increased
By those narrations of yours.

You came during the storm of Jaistha,
Took farewell in Bhadro-
Twenty-three years of creativity
Brought all the novelty in the planet.

Three hundred and sixty five days
become one year
In every human life
this is an unexpected tour.

No one knows the destination
What it is written?
Everyone is in restricted
to one’s destiny.

This is how the life goes on
filled with hope
That's how the time goes on
the world filled with trust.

Pedestrians are running with shortness of breath
No time to waste
Everyone is running for their task
That's why there is less time to talk.

Someone is walking fast
Someone walks slowly
Everyone is busy in the middle of work
Everyone is eating by working.

Someone from behind again
Gives a push on the back
Hey, walk faster
There is no excuse.

Thus the rushling and hustling
That's all going on throughout the path
Must reach the place of perform
There is no time to cease.

Finally,
She sits on the bench,
Tried to take a breath of calm -
All marginal needs
Pledged to time,
With any long distance train
Like running without a whistle,
It will suddenly stop moving.

Then she will take a walk in the open courtyard.
From where the balcony is loaded with the handle of the bamboo ladder
The open sky can be seen.

Blue sky!
Haven't had a chance to look there for a long time -
From dawn to noon, till the evening lights are lit,
Pick dry wood,
Pushes the kitchen,
Clean the window rust,
Entwined those reed branches,
Washed off the **** from husband's undervest,
By buttoning the eldest son's shirt,
Sew the sleeve of the little girl's dress.

Although a little bit of time arrived;
From where came a stormy crow
Sitting on the courtyard, started yelling-
"I want some food for my hungry stomach!"

(Continued from 3/10)

Gilbert used to sit
alone and grieve-
none could understand
or feel his grievances,
nor his friends,
nor his father
(his stepfather),
nor any neighbors,
perhaps, his mother
could realize a bit,
but, she could do nothing.

One day he asked
his mother,
“where people go after death?”
his mother could not
able to give a simple answer,
rather, she said,
“all souls go to a special place
where they like the most.”

From the childhood
he heard a fable of a spiritual ghost
who lived inside the dark forest
and could defy the death
by bringing back those lost souls.

No one knows where he lives
except inside the remote forest,
but, a wicked witch who lives
at the very end of the village
has some idea,
she sells to the one
who fervently requests.

Gilbert, by breaking his piggy bank
went to the wicked witch
to seek advice on how to reach
the spiritual ghost.

Continued…

Came alone, I'll go alone
Keep this in mind
Nothing will work
Relatives and friends.

On the way of coming, on the way of going
What work I have done
The calculation has to be paid
And, it has to be understood today.

Keep this thing in the mind
It is better this way
The path through you are coming and going
Let us ignite some knowledge of light.

O rio corre através do mar
Ora reto, ora dobrado
Não sabe por onde parar.

Na estação chuvosa fica inundada
Este lado, esse lado, ambos os lados ficam inundados
Leva tudo o que encontra na frente.

Aldeia de carros alegóricos, aldeias
Vai para baixo
Quanto do caminho e da área.

No verão, torna-se fino
Algumas rotas se tornam inacessíveis
O rio é único na era de quebrar e fazer
Então, nas páginas da vida
Observações pendentes.

Rajakini Randha is roaming alone
With her soft feet in silence-
Flowers are blooming in the garden
Gave chrysanthemum pendants in the ears.

Wearing a necklace of kanakachampa flowers around his neck
Red variety of oleander's bracelet is in her hand-
A bunch of Quisqualis indica is hanging in the hair
A swarm of golden jasmine is tied around the waist.

Inserted cypress vine in her coiffure
The fringe is full of mirabilis jalapa-
Yellow bells flowers are wrapped around her legs
Where does she go with her timid timid feet!

By far
thoughts are sometime hollow,
perhaps,
they are not that easy
to swallow.

May be they could be
in the realm of extreme,
or, could they be
part of an unusual dream.

In this hazy world
nothing seems to be perfect,
or, could be real true-
Even though people
more or less
rely on their thoughts,
due, or undue.

In the heat of the summer
all body sweats
Get a little peace
when it rains.

It's happening around the world
due to the change of environment
In third world countries, especially
increasing irritation intensifies.

All of the us together
will have to take the step
If the balance is in the environment
Eventually disaster will decrease.

Anything there is worn out, torn apart
As much as there is, unlucky
Delete, in this new dawn
Wash your mind, with sunshine.

Oh human, promise now
As long as you remain in this earth
Will be motivated in human service
Be it spring, winter, monsoon, or drought.

Remain devoted to humanity
By taking this promise
Promote humanity
No one can be despised.

Hey, extend the hand of harmony
Around allover the society
Be reputed in action
Cheers spread in all corners.

On a moonlight night
the silent disciple started
his journey to slay the monster
(all the good fairies helped him,
except a wicked witch).

He was carrying a magic sword
with which he should penetrate
the heart of the monster to ****,
but the wicked witch stole it
from him by turning into a
male thief while
the silent disciple was sleeping.

All those good fairies observed it
but they couldn’t stop
the stealing (though at the later stage
they recovered it
and gave it to the silent disciple).

He crossed mountains,
he travels through dense forests,
his swam through lakes, rivers,
he walked across dry desserts,
he sailed across oceans,
and finally reached
at the place
where the cursed monster
took shelter.

Contd…

The millennium is over,
How much water flows in the river Padma,
Someone keeps track of that!
In this short-lived life,
Filled with ups and downs,
Only waves of pain flow.

I am at the crossroads of tomorrow,
With aspirant hope raising both arms.

Everything is in motionless motion-
All speeches seem to be lost,
All reflections have disappeared,
Only the heart can tell, whom it wants.

Turn around silently,
The mountain of thoughts are in front,
Can they be recognized?
Time flies like a butterfly
Wants to look at the annihilation,
Again searching for what has been lost on the way.

Filled fagun, a downpour
The air is clear, clear as a crystal
What a wonderful creation.

Swallow, Cuculidae are soaking wet
Calling out "crystal clear water!"
The sun is covered behind the clouds
The ground becomes cold.

Rain water is pouring in the field
Falling on the tin roof
Awakes life in the rive
Increased water, in the upstream of Matamuhuri.

Decorating nature, what a magical outfit
Sea, hills, forest
Blooming Shimul, Palash, Bakul
The earth is full of softness.

Girt with rivers, abounding with fruitful trees;
With land of harvest, full of greenaries,
Oh, my motherland,
Keep your devotion in my heart
You are eternal.

How many rivers flow
All over your perimeter
Nameless birds live
Happily in all those trees.

How many flowers bloom in the forest
The mind is filled with their fragrance,
How many scrumptious fruits grow on the tree
In those satiated gardens.

You remain profound in our heart
Let us praise you,
Stimulating happiness and prosperity
Make us dignified.

Dies ist ein herrlicher Tag
Dies ist ein Tag des Sieges
Ein Tag voller Erfolge.

Tage sind in die Ewigkeit gekommen
Zu irgendeiner Nation
Unvergessliche Erinnerungen
Zu den Leuten.

Dies ist ein Festivaltag
Dies ist ein glücklicher Tag
Dies ist ein Tag des Fühlens.

Footprints-
When did they fade away,
In which inauspicious time
Only dust has increased step by step.

In a similar time-
Started walking again,
Stay behind all those hopes and mis-hopes
Anything remains are gone.

No more lament-
Silently wipe the tears,
Tiny moments remain forgotten
The dialogue is missing.

Floating in the sea of hope-
Firmly grasp the helm,
On the way forward
Love the silent acceleration.

The deep forest calls out,
In the tenderness of the leaves
What an illusion is involved.

The murmur of dried leaves
Blow in which tune,
Hijal, tamal, in the shade of shawl
Called away in a remote place.

Curved narrow paths
Merged into an unknown border,
Green forest surrounded by shade
Prate by prying.

The dew of the grass wraps around the feet
Still walking randomly,
The rainbow came and filled my heart
I want to return to her embrace.

Seeing it unimaginable
keeping everything
out on the way.

Time of the day
unevenly mixed
what I would say.

One could say that
whatever to say
seen more obstacles
on the way.

Who knows what will happen.

The passer-by seeing the front
forwards the legs right.
You can try to get to see
and, even get it right on the river’s coast.

The caged bird has such a great pride,
He thinks the cage is a flowery garden.

In his anxious mind, he looks towards the sky-
He does not take other animal into count,
He sings whatever comes in his own mind.

Once someone forgot to close the cage door-
Out of the cage he feels very proud,
Tried to fly a little with the fragile wing in the air.

Nah, he could not fly at ease -
Also, no one care about it, as he did before towards them,
He fell into a bitter conflict.

Then, somehow coming back in the cage,
He closed the door himself.

Life is so easy to observe from the distance,
It is so intricate to feel from the adjacent.

Half curved moon rose in the sky
Countless stars awoke,
Light spreads the game of darkness
Flowed eternal stream of the Ganges.

A gentle breeze blows in the air
The soul began to swing,
Heart is in the courtyard of some unknown arena
That cannot be forgotten.

Compact touch of southern breeze continued
Inserted within the heart,
Fireflies in the shade of bamboo gardens
Just opened their eyes
Half curved moon smiles in a sigh……

The moonlight disappeared suddenly,
Took the darkness with her-
Who placed passion-flower in her ears,
With a uncomprehending smile,
With a cowardly step who came and stood in the corner of the square.

Silver moon,
That is painted only on the painter's canvas.
Under the bare wood apple tree, or on the edge of the cinnamon forest,
Is anyone waiting for someone?

With a weak argument,
What a tense memory to hold!
On the other hand, in earthen plate, the rice is poured with water
But the tailed dog plundered all,
And I stood under the darkness,
Recite Shakespeare's lyric.

Yet I don’t know why, but hear
The fasting street child continues to say,
"Give me a handful of food!"
I can't write poetry anymore.

Listen to the broken melodies all around
When the bond was snapped
The stream of cataclysm came into the chest.

All the flowers in the garden are laying on the floor
There is no one to pick them up
The heart is full of darkness
Playing there waves of pain.

Shravana stream falls
Filled my eyes
All were washed away in the flash flood
How do I call someone.

When the courtyard has been broken
I could not see anything
Wandering alone in the empty arena
I stopped at the edge of the sunset.

Sometime, some period, some days, some months, some years,
Some eras, some centuries, some millennia-
Everything is limited to that "something".

And that is the smallest part of the eternal universe,
It is only a part of what is being described.

Invisible to the idea, there is no "anything",
Even if I leave, it does not leave me.

Life revolves around this "something",
All wanderings are limited to this "something".

Although this "something" refers only to something,
Yet the scope of this "something" is not known,
Receiving of "something" not to be known too,
Finally,  everything ends within this "something".

La rivière coule à travers la mer
Parfois droit, parfois courbé
Ne sait pas où s'arrêter.

En saison des pluies devient inondé
Ce côté, autre côté, les deux côtés sont inondés
Prend tout ce qu'il trouve devant.

Village des inondations
Diminue
Combien de chemin et de région.

En été il devient maigre
Certains itinéraires deviennent inaccessibles
La rivière est unique à l’ère des ruptures
Donc sur les pages de la vie
Remarques en suspens.

Bring the spud, come with the axe
Cut down all the trees.

What is the need of the garden
There will be an apartment, however.

Fill all the ponds
There will be house complexes.

What one get any benefit from the lowlands
Lack of space to build new houses.

Who keeps space for a new road
He lives in a fool's paradise.

There is no time to sense and thought
Everyone is running with their eyes up.

Must have to be modern
Look around.

Once in a life time
a beggar, found a holed dime.

He thought
what would he do with it?
He cannot buy a loaf of bread
or, even a small slice of meat.

As long as he thinks
All his ideas become stinks
and, finally he decided to throw it away,
He threw the holed coin in the quay.

He then realized,
Whatever you seek in life, you will not find.
Hence, it is better not to think about it
and, it will bring you the piece of mind.

हेलो महिला
मुझे भ्रम में डाल दिया,
शीघ्र ही,
आप किस मोह में फैले हैं-
रोमांचित तार में, प्यासे सुबह,
मेरे दिल में;
समय गुजरता है,
हेलम दिया-
चेतना को पुनर्जीवित करते हुए, मैं एक अदृश्य नखलिस्तान देखता हूं,
समय की प्राचीनता के लिए,
ब्रह्मचारी हो गया।

Chegando à junção da vida
Calculando a disponibilidade, indisponibilidade
A mente está transtornada
O que queria e o que conseguiu?

Bem no fundo daquela dor
A frustração está o tempo todo.

As esperanças são devastadas sob a roda da fortuna
Então a vida chora por aí
Recebimento de busca e não busca
Cercou o pátio da vida.

(Continued from 2/10)

While the days are passing
Gilbert was becoming
more sad and sad
because his only sister
(younger than four years)
was gradually dying
because of scarlet fever.

All the doctors of the
township came,
all the medicine men came,
they even went to
the next big town
for her treatment,
but, nothing was working
and day by day
her health was deteriorating.

One day came,
she did not wake up,
and Gilbert was the first person
to observe this-
he yield, “Mother,
sister is not waking up!”

Entire community came,
they used to love her very much
because of her politeness and beauty-
they came all together
they mourn all together
they sympathized all together
and left,
while Gilbert was
standing alone, with her
motionless body.

Thereafter,
the preacher came-
all took her dead body
for the funeral,
the preacher state those words
Gilbert already memorized,
but, his sadness
never abridged for a single moment.

Continued…

Behold!
Who passes by?

Intricate imagination,
Lifeless thought,
Prolonged burden,
Sudden nightmare?

Someone tried to sing a choir
But, alone
In the middle of nowhere
Perhaps emptiness only surround.

Behold!
Who passes by?

Discarded waiting,
Slender hope,
Bitter expectation,
Tuneless descant?

How do I tell someone,
Which way to go-
All the ways met there,
In the back alley of life.

Standing on the other side of the border,
I pry by raising both arms-
Tired traveler loses target,
Bumblebee is looking for the nectar.

In what tune did I sing,
Though, I want to fulfill my soul-
Scattered flower petals on the pavement,
Someone trampled them.

What am I thinking today,
Is which color the sky has laid out?
Again, I am looking for the way with false hope,
Flowers are falling with silent cry.

Finally,
She sits at the window side,
Tried to breathe a little peace-
Keeping aside all the marginal desires
With a mortgage on time,
With a long-distance train
Like running without a whistle,
Will suddenly stop moving,
Then take a little rest in that open courtyard-
From where the mass of the bamboo scaffolding of the fence
The open sky can be seen.

Blue sky!
She hasn't had time to look that way for a long time.
From dawn to dusk, till the evening light,
Collecting firewood,
Pushing the kitchen,
Cleans rust from old windows,
Gather the reed branches,
Washes the broth stains from husband's vest,
Putting the torn button of the elder boy's shirt,
Sew the sleeve of the little girl's dress ....

Tried to take a little leisure though;
Where did a stormy crow come from?
Sat down on the courtyard and started yelling-
"I want a little food for my hungry stomach!"

(On the eve of the International Mother’s Day:
Dedicated to the marginalized neglected mothers of rural Bengal)

The shadow is the nest of deep peace
This is within my village,
Waves playing in the green field
It flows from the south.

The field is full of
Golden rice,
The shepherd boy sits in the shade
Plays to the tune unknown.

The river flows with gentle sound
Many boats are docked in the quay,
Little children remain engaged
In the village market with full of colors.

In the water of the paved lake
Lotus flower is in bloom,
Hanging on the ears of the village bride
Passion flower’s pendant.

The heart remained stagnant
In the firefly glowed night,
I hope to awaken the soul
In the womb of the new morning.

On the other side of the world
in a rocky mountain
raised by a devoted monk
a silent disciple
(who took oath to remain
silent during the rest of his life)
took another oath
to **** the monster
and it was the last order
from his guru during his last breath.

The monster happened to
keep his name by killing
both of his parents
on his seventeenth birth year
on a moonless dark night
and took the solemn vow
to destroy the mankind.

Observing this cruel incident
the jungle goddess gave a curse
to the monster that
he would be killed mercilessly
by a silent disciple
and his dissatisfied soul
will remain hanging
on the shoulder of the eternity.

Contd…

How many rivers flow
The estuarine estuary of this delta of the Bengal.
Looking at the bewildered beauty
It's not too late to fall in love.

There are gold paddy in the field
On the side of the field, filled with the peasant’s song
The garden is filled with sweet mango
Southern air flows over the mild river.

I heard the shepherd's flute
Joy and smile while playing with the children
Jasmine, belly in flourish
Pankouri and kingfishers are playing in the water.

The bird's are singing on the branches
The dusk dumped in the galaxy in the distance.
I am fascinated by the beauty of Bengal
The water of pleasantness comes down to the cheek.

The helmsman, the cultivator of the village
Come everybody come
Go to the quay, go to the field
Time flies.

You have to raise the sail
We have to join helm to the plow
River water is surging
Waves playing in the paddy field.

Flood is in the river today
Harvest Binny rice for the next season
There is no time to sit idle
Get up by fastening the waist.

Employed on daily basis
Mr. Nasirul Haque,
Devoted life to service
No, he is completely wrong.

Attend on time every day-
Even some days,
arrive at work before everyone else,
Work with focus-
Although the authorities most days
keep him busy with more working hours,
Under some guise.

For these additional functions
He receives no remuneration,
Happily accepts monthly salary
And nothing more.

Yet he is devoted to his work
Always conscious of duty,
Although all grow at an exponential rate
Not only does his salary.

Gilbert used to go
to his school, everyday
through a brick paved road,
just penetrating the old cemetery.

While he passed
he usually saw
peoples’ funerals
heard from the distant,
the preacher’s mourning speech,
“..... For dust you are,
and to dust, you shall return.”

Sometimes,
he used to ride
on a bicycle,
or sometimes
he used to just walk
and cross the cemetery road.

Most of the time
he could recognize
those mourning people
as they were his neighbors
and he knows all of them.

Continued...

Once upon a time
a beautiful ******
(she was the princess
of an unknown land)
met a nameless thief
in the dark forest
of a solitude island.

The ****** was left abandoned
by her own mother
(she used to be the queen
of that unknown land)
who was envied of her solemn beauty;

The thief swam to that island
after being chased by
the fleet guards of a floating sheep
where he was kept stealing
(their fates allowed them to meet).

On a moonless night
both the bodies become one
though their souls remain a part
and eventually they gave birth
to a male child
(who turned out to be a monster)
on the peak of the red moon.

Contd…

On his way towards the
black mountain
where the monster took shelter
he met another dedicated monk
whom he accompanied to
reach his destination.

By the way
the silent disciple feels
inside his heart that
the dedicated monk is very near to his heart
(in fact both were brothers in
their early lives and the blood bond
to them together again),
and they decided to fulfill their destiny.

The dedicated monk
in one of his early life
has done many sinful walks
and he has also taken a solemn vow
to destroy any obstruction to humankind.

Hence, both of them
took another new vow
to **** the monster
so that the humanity prevail
in this universe;
so all those good fairies.

Contd…

Alas, the stagnant past,
Fell into utter darkness.
The heart is pounding,
Opening the closed door.

Alas, the starving past,
Ability is very limited.
The policy is worn out,
Thin and lean in half bed.

Alas, the unspoken past,
Written with an unclear mind.
From a lonely God,
Avatar of deviation.

Alas, the faded past,
The attainment is inlaid.
Deluded with situation comedies,
Worn out in childishness.

Suddenly looking at the open sky,
I raised my arms and asked-
“Oh space!
Is your zodiac still intact?”

He answered with a sad face-
“In the uninterrupted activity of humankind
Ozone layer is followed by fatigue and constant tiredness.
As a result, the earth is becoming untidy;
Somewhere prolonged drought,
Extreme flooding somewhere,
A catastrophic storm somewhere,
Tsunami somewhere,
Glacier somewhere.
But what about them, will their own end
Be caused by themselves, soon!”

Today's work, will do it tomorrow
That can't be done anymore
Will give the happiness of this fortune to the other one
That cannot be changed.

Who be obligated as much as here
There is as much as one deserves
One will get as be worthy of
There is no alternative to that.

The provisions of the rules are written there
His reckoning is all fair
Now it's time to realize
One has to be patient.

The branch fell from the tree on the way,
The branch weeps and says, O Mother
Does happiness lies in this.

The tree laughs and says, O my child
Don't be impatient.
I have given you as a gift, to the human race
Bless you Karmavir.

There are also so many delicious fruits-
When they are satisfied with them,
I am successful in that.

The branch understands all,
Staying silent but looking for-
Alas true happiness!

But why are they
Whenever get a chance
Looking forward to killing the tree?

Suddenly, the sarengi rose to a certain tune,
The heart woke up and looks towards far away.

The homeless mind lost its way in an unknown direction,
However, extended the hand saying that it would be time to leave.

What else does it take to tie the wire apart from the binding,
Perhaps, there was a dry bouquet on the open window.

What will happen if the tomorrow remains to be recognized,
Though trying to make up for those lost old days.