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
Comes More Not
Keeping the stone of Paharpur on the left ,
crossing the canal if anyone approaches the moat,
never he comes back --- you knew it well,
nevertheless why did you allow him
to enter the heart of the hut?
They who used to dye your Shika;
They who used to bring you cock-flowers
if you once reject their hands, they won't return