Rayhan Rhyne
Rayhan Rhyne Poems
1.
A cat haunted a shalik, playfully. That bird dies off before the eyes of some earth-doves sitting on the tree. The moment the jerking stops, the moment death approaches- in what an unknown restraint, the cat retreats, slowly.
2.
...
Once intruding into an orchard, a hungry boy
Ate up some well-ripe apples,
Moreover, he hid some more beneath his wears.
The sentry saw this theft in his dreams while drowsing.
...
'What remains in the folded sleeves of the winter-sky
What exists in the ceaseless gibberish of the evening-madness
Whose empathy advances from earth towards the bunches of green leaves
What keeps growing in the scribbling of a fade, rough notebook... ”
...
Once Yama asked a grave-digger, for whom have you dug grave today?
The grave-digger smiles, you know-
nobody has died in our city.
...
When we forget the name of a 'ghat' left behind;
When a known face cannot be recalled at any attempts;
...
'Some deaths slipping away from murderous shape
beholds our conscience;
makes the night profound;
then the calm soul sleeping
...
I saw an unknown musketeer in my dream;
a pair of eyes of stone followed me
from somewhere very close, nearby.
...
Forgetting over and over,
his mind is a killing ground now;
he is to stand face to face with death
in a cold war everyday.
...
Swimming across a river-edge,
a tiger came to a village;
a burning fire-bright tiger;
whichever house he visit
...
Bringing home Rupa Tashmin,
I saw an apple and a knife on my table.
Opening the northern window,
the wild-fowl warbled in the wood,
...
Rayhan Rhyne Biography
Rayhan Rhyne is a poet, fiction writer, and translator. He teaches philosophy at Jahangirnagar University, Savar, Dhaka.)
The Best Poem Of Rayhan Rhyne
The House Of Shadows
1.
A cat haunted a shalik, playfully. That bird dies off before the eyes of some earth-doves sitting on the tree. The moment the jerking stops, the moment death approaches- in what an unknown restraint, the cat retreats, slowly.
2.
I was awaken in a house of shadows. The moment I wake up there, all the things around- that marble sword, the green eyes of envy, the false and the death keep watching me incessantly.
3.
The path I walk on, or I myself is the path from whose two ends come forth numerous gifts, joys- is it death who sends so many things for me? !
4.
The chopped corpses are searching their own hands and feet in the water-drum. On coming to this world, they have owned these hands and feet effortlessly. They didn't have to search them! In this drum, they fail to do it today.
5.
Wherever I go an apparition chases me. In the guise of Death, he keeps waking with me, side by side. When I saw him first, we exchange no words. He seemed to me a dumb animal. Now, we always talk to each other. I have known that our all words are only with him.
6.
Each me, moving slightly forward, crossing himself, can see, by looking back the dead 'me'. A stone cannot do that. The much lively 'me', hence, die in what measure, a stone does not die that much.
7.
The unique gifts death sends to me, in the guise of those gifts, actually he himself encroaches. That he comes, is perceived gradually- when all the things around decay everyday, when all guises keep falling off! Whatever remains then, remaining in me, in the guise of my pleasure. Then I perceive, I myself, is also a gift from death which he cares to send to none but me.
8.
Whatever we lose, death saves them with all possessiveness. Once, long after, I went there, in that haunted house, where a flock of kaathshalik used to roam about behind the kitchen-hut. I found no old women there, nor her custard-apple tree. The kitchen, which has been layered by earth, is calling someone in a very feeble voice; that sound reaches my ears.
9.
The dog, which died few years back, I saw last night in my dream. Today I saw him once again- in the course of conversation, when the old woman, the seller of saffron, was surrendering to her own death, the dog was licking her body!
(Translated from Bangla by Raihan Sharif)
Rayhan Rhyne Comments
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12/5/2025 5:10:27 AM # 1.0.0
Rayhan Rhyne's poems are one of the best things I allowed to be part of my everyday thoughts. I welcome all to enjoy his poems. Once you feel them somewhere in your pulse, they will most likely be part of you. Cheers!