Forest Poem by BASAB CHAUDHURI

I do not know what looking at means,
perhaps it is not the right expression,
but you know, my early education was in a Bengali - medium school,
I do not expect from myself flowery language, that too in English.

Sometimes a dwarf desires to touch the sky,
watching his struggle tall men laugh out loud,
that is precisely the moment for a poem,
when impossibility finds a rare expression.

Coming back to looking at -
that was precisely the point.
I look at the forest and get lost.
For me it has been a habit - sort of.

The trees are so thickly placed,
one's leaves touch the other's
in a spectacular show of embrace -
my eyes cannot penetrate through the dark green,
yet I search for a little light.

So dense a forest you can never imagine,
I think of the deadly snakes,
when the wind blows through the leaves,
spine-chilling sound suddenly arrives.

I look at the forest and think of the birds,
where do they get their courage from?
Animals - they are deadly species,
kill and eat them piece by piece.

Forest, only forest, I am lost there,
none to save me, near and dear,
this is a painting done by my daughter,
why does she give me such nightmare?

Every night I look at the forest
and delve deep into the green,
the trees are lovely, tall and thick,
Do I look at or do I peep?