Asimuzzaman Asim Poems

My beloved has ensnare me in a ambit, it be sticked…
I desore not to chit, but feast me an uncertainty, it seems…

That countenance is akin to an apothecary for me…
...

Let it be grief, even to tantalize my heart, come,
Come even if only to waive me to torment again,
Come, if not for our past deceit,
Then to intently fulfil the pristine rustic rituals.
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Having mulct both this macrocosm
And the next for love's sake,
There goes a frigid soul
With a hipped night in his wake.
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How sprightly she must be living, how proud
She must be, who knows what modus of people would be there who would be fetching to her.

In the dusk of day, happy people come here to me.
...

That pamper as once respired among us,
Whether you dodder recalling or do not…
That promise, yes, of trailing thus,
Whether you dodder recalling or do not…
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she broke all the means of communication as she went away.
Though I presumed our understanding was such that at least we could have continued visiting each others spot.

It was better if one had professed a sole candle oneself instead of yammer about the darkness of the night
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Meeting in the wake of so long?
What notion are your lost in these days?
The sturdy puff of sir asks me..
What do you keep writing in the sand?
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You are leaving with such a trace.
you are faster than me
Why do you feign in writing on the right?
I daze who asked me rife than me?
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If you don't believe then try me,
I am a mirror, hunt up this image,

I am a uncouth candle, I keep burning day and night,
...

somewhere the moon got lost on the way
somewhere the moonlight got lost,
I am a lamp and that too is extinguished.
how my night brightened!
...