A knife pierced through slumber.
The knife is getting in and getting out of slumber.
Yet not a drop of blood!
The ultimate address becomes a missing link
To hang above our courtyard
To hang above our tomato fields.
Blood starts to spill and drop at last.
And all the flags are getting drenched.
# Translated from Bengali by Jewel Mazhar.
ছুরি
ঘুমের ভেতর ওষুধ ঢুকে গেছে
ঘুমের ভেতর একটা ছুরি
ঢুকছে বেরোচ্ছে
রক্ত পড়ছে না
শেষ ঠিকানা মিসিংলিঙ্ক হয়ে
ঝুলে আছে আমাদের উঠোনে
টোম্যাটোর খেত
শেষবার রক্তপাত
ভিজে যাচ্ছে সমস্ত পতাকা
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Love, life and poignancy. Good poem. Good translation it seems. Would have loved to read it in Bengali.10/10 Read my poem 'Knife', if you are interested