Biography of Ershad Mazumder
I have returned to my original pseudonym divine poet.I do not live in my soul.I am beyond my body and matter.insanity is my dress.Immorality is my religion.I am not a poet on my own. I do not compose on my own wish.Some one invisible whispers me and my hand composes as per dictation of the invisible he/she anytime anywhere.
My spirit has an invisible miracle pen.It writes on a water sheet and words are recorded in the eternity.
Divinity is the only tools through which one can read me.I am in conflict with my God.I see HIM dancing with HIS angels in heaven while my world is burning.I want to see HIM weeping. I shall set fire on His throne. So forget my mid time period and I do return my original position of divine poet.
Ershad Mazumder's Works:
1.Letters From My Mom
4.Letters From The Soul(english poetry anthology)
5.Letters From The Soul (French translation)
6.Letters From the Soul(urdu translation)
7.Nayika, a political fiction in Bangla
8.Dimer Khoshaye Path Chola, a fiction on BPD in Bangla
9.Nijeke Bibosro Kore(Translation of Arab women poets.)
Under process of publication
1. Krishna Kotha (Fiction)
2. Pita Putrake (Memoirs)
3. Gender Club (Fiction)
4. Kalo Kabider Kobita (Translation)
5. Turki Kobita (Translation)
Ershad Mazumder Poems
A Moment With A Night
The night turns a being without forms and image And says, lets go for a sip with this thirsty eyes.
A Crazy And Insane Poet
When I am crazy and insane as said by the critics how can I be a poet. I do not know
A Barren Time
To cultivate a barren time To create a rose garden You entered into an unknown time We walk together
A Dreamy Poet
Dream takes my poet friend Greenwolfe To be in heaven and in hell Dream helps my friend to be full of greed and lust.
A Letter To My Darling
I know darling You will be surprised to see me My face is full of beard
A Poet Can
A poet can make a stone weeping But I can not I see a stone
I may not see you again Always in my heart you remain I shall never forget you my dear Your sweet memory makes me cheer.
A Form For Me
A time for both of us Only to think When there was no time We do not have any form
A White Dream
White above white White within white White below white. The planet disappears
A Poet From A Timid Nation
I am from a very inferior and insignificant family background My race and my family never conquered any land or country
A God Like Me
Almighty If you are you really a God Mercy me.
Come Back Home
Oh, our daughters and sons The place you live in Speaks language of weapons They love war instead of peace
A Wartime Coffin
I am a deadman There is none to carry my coffin The street is barren, remote sound of boots Barking of dogs are floatinf on the smoky air.
Age And Youth
Youth and age Can not go together They stay together But walks alone.
God And Poet
A poet means to contemplate
At will at any time
A poet means a beautiful bun
Looks like a cluster of exquisit flowers.
A poet means a house of barren field
Not known to ordinary mortals
A poet means of no parents
A GOD himself.
Copyright By Ershad Mazumder