Al Mahmud Poems
Comments about Al Mahmud
By Your Hand
I wish I ate the ancient koi of Kurulia
fried especially by your own hand.
I wish sitting like a crow in the veranda of Munsi House
I enjoyed your scrubbing.
Would you say then, 'Who the bull there?'
Nobody realises more than me
the beauty of waves of your black hair
broken down on back.
Yet you waiving your hands
showed me the way to the city.
[Translated by Sayeed Abubakar from Sonali Kabin]
Translator's not: Koi: A kind of fish
The Foam Of Wind
Nothing lasts, behold.
Behold how the leaves, the flowers, the old villagers,
the pose of rivers' dancing, the brazen pitchers and
the fire of hookah
and the flock of grown up girls gradually diminish
like the monsoon of Hilsa fish !
The yellow leaves, sounding in the wind,
fall down on the droughty desolate land.
The foreign ducks too,