Stand Up, Don't Go Now-The Flowers Of Spring Will Bloom In My Frost -Quiet Skeleton Poem by Soumen Chattopadhyay

Life! I'm just in your hand fist -then why would you leave? Many faces, umpteen and veiled in mist are waiting.Harshness of person, when pales; ethereal worms of grief eat into skeleton.In the stream of frost windinside the hollo bone, the ceaseless sound of the darkness continues.The night falls in the rough hills -in my astound village, breaths of nocturnal animals become close-I'm alone.Neverthelesscoming back-asking the touch of the blood, flesh and touch.If the feelings of the dying moments of the anguish, coming down of the tune of the past membrane of the earth from ten directions, desired tune of flute from the firmament pierce -overwhelm-take away towards any level of emptiness, so the coming back.

For long time, I'm in dark -want to be dispersed in the body of the beloved women.Stand up -don't go now, I'm watching the quietness of the rotten fruit in the displaced time -has assembled a lot of sorrow-sorrow, remaining in his own corner, has broadened me.In the saddened night, I unite with the soil-the fireof kinship plays, clotted soil of the wild earth is embellished with flowersin my hand.The warmth of the season in soil -golden feelings of the ochre afternoon associated the secluded trees.The despair of five senses is burntat place of worship-each and every day shouts in the sunshine, flowers of spring blossom in my quiet frost skeleton.

Stand up -don't go now.For many days, I'm in huge darkness-this time I'll be moistened in sun-juice.Staring at my own corrosion in numerous faces, one day at well-knownlight and dark, I'll be in ashes.