Poem Hunter: Poems - Poets - Poetry

My eyes don't go by forbidding;
so does my mind
neither by forbidding nor by weeping.

Over the ages I have been looking for you
staying at roadside,
tears rolled down overflowing my banks
not caring for eye wash.

I am alone in the midst of all
which is why I long to see you
death, too, reckons none barring you.

[Original: Noyon je mor; Translation: Mohammad Nurul Huda]
...

It was not dying: everybody died.
It was not dying: we had died before
In the routine crashes-- and our fields
Called up the papers, wrote home to our folks,
And the rates rose, all because of us.
We died on the wrong page of the almanac,
Scattered on mountains fifty miles away;
Diving on haystacks, fighting with a friend,
We blazed up on the lines we never saw.
We died like aunts or pets or foreigners.

...

A sleepless night is nightless sleep
An awakened night
Sound of the fan
Sound of silence
Scare of the still
Thoughts of thinking
Thinking on thoughts
To past; future
Timeless moment - the present
Faces come, events pass

...

When you are mixed with many I descry
A single light, and judge the rest thereby.
But when you are alone with me, why then,
I quite forget all women and all men.
...

Nobody heard him, the dead man,
But still he lay moaning:
I was much further out than you thought
And not waving but drowning.

Poor chap, he always loved larking
And now he's dead
It must have been too cold for him his heart gave way,
They said.


...

Stars blink in the dark
Moon hums a gentle secret
Dreams float quietly
...

Blest pair of Sirens, pledges of Heav'n's joy,
Sphere-born harmonious Sisters, Voice and Verse,
Wed your divine sounds, and mixt power employ
Dead things with inbreath'd sense able to pierce,
And to our high-rais'd fantasy present
That undisturbed Song of pure concent,
Ay sung before that saphire-colour'd throne
To Him that sits thereon
With Saintly shout and solemn Jubilee,
Where the bright Seraphim in burning row
Their loud up-lifted Angel trumpets blow,
And the Cherubic host in thousand choirs
Touch their immortal Harps of golden wires,
With those just Spirits that wear victorious Palms,
Hymns devout and holy Psalms
Singing everlastingly;
That we on Earth with undiscording voice
May rightly answer that melodious noise;
As once we did, till disproportion'd sin
Jarr'd against Nature's chime, and with harsh din
Broke the fair music that all creatures made
To their great Lord, whose love their motion sway'd
In first obedience, and their state of good.
And keep in tune with Heav'n, till God ere long
To His celestial consort us unite,
To live with Him, and sing in endless morn of light.
...

Keep me from going to sleep too soon
Or if I go to sleep too soon
Come wake me up. Come any hour
Of night. Come whistling up the road.
Stomp on the porch. Bang on the door.
Make me get out of bed and come
And let you in and light a light.
Tell me the northern lights are on
And make me look. Or tell me clouds
Are doing something to the moon

...

A stab in the heart,
you bring me pain.
I unlocked your secrets,
saw the writing on the wall—
it felt like a slap in the face,
a stab in the back.

I never expected you to love me,
but to think there were four of me—
my heart dropped,

...