Pre-History Poem by Boudhayan Mukherjee

think about the night
that is trembling with sin
the birds have nested
and are sleeping without night-noises
a sleep reverts this earth after sundown
dreams arrive without thunder or thirsts
the leaves tremble and fall, its fall-winter
the buds reappear, scarlet flowers will bloom
the migratory birds are here
but the villagers have shooed them away
the soil is raw, crops do not grow
the humus unformed the night could not
sleep peacefullymy pen is shuddering
to open the cape
this earth before the sunflower opens
had loomed in darkness and sin
the morning will fade out without glory
what will i tell my bud-son
when he wakes up for another day?


boudhayan mukherjee