Sagnik Chakraborty

Sagnik Chakraborty Poems

With words I painted spring
So the cuckoo bird could sing,
Sing she did, but not in glee,
Her notes just yielded pity for me -

My heart shall beat for eternity;
It takes its cue and hums along,
For life is but an endless song
That brims with sublime variety.

The flowers be wilting, it is spring,
The mind be fleeting, it is spring,
The pain be seething, it is spring,
My heart be bleeding, it is spring.

Laid back on the couch of a grassy patch,
He gazes at the vastness of the sky,
His wandering gaze would browse the cosmos high
When twinkling bodies with starry eyes match.

Shelley! You are the deathless defender,
The champion of poets in flesh and blood,
Your poetry is no putrid pretender,
Through fluid verses forceful flows its flood.

In my thoughts I forged a lyre
And softly fed it of my mind,
And tried to play many an air,
But lifeless was its kind.

As I hold the chords and strum the strings,
my guitar sings;

Passionate, I clasp it to my breast,

Long had I braved the seas in boats of wood,
But rudderless I tossed and turned in vain,
Till shipwrecked on the shores of life I stood
With naught but sordid counts of loss and gain.

The leaves of trees waved to the wind,
I reclined on a grassy bed,
I tried to purge my tired mind
Of tedious phrases heard and said.

The clouds play 'Holi' in the scarlet sky,
I watch in wonder as a fresh day dawns,
The gushing blood in me a new life spawns,
A sweet-scented wind goes wafting by.

In my heart a sparkler brightly burns,
It sizzles, in the darkness quietly screams,
In its light you sense the warmth of love,
And thus your mirth the burning being earns.

I fell asleep within my dream,
Cradled by the lonesome night,
Beyond the pale of time and distance
Shone your face, a vision bright!

In the wilderness,
As I am drifting through
the heart of darkness,
Sifting through

Grief is the summer sun raining fire -
A fiery scourge that scorches body and mind -
In silence bides her time, beyond the pyre,
A joyous rebirth, under Monsoon's wind.

A little child I am, I know,
In innocence each day I grow,
The world I watch with curious eyes,
As each day dawns with a new sunrise.

When summer's fiery days end at last,
And vapoury clouds shroud the azure's visage,
The notes of 'Malhar' quench a thirsty heart;
Alas, I hear the advent of a storm.

While vernal clusters usher in a spring,
Why do I hear my friend, a youthful flower,
Utter a heavy-hearted, cruel adieu?
While soulfully the cuckoo bird does sing

The Best Poem Of Sagnik Chakraborty


With words I painted spring
So the cuckoo bird could sing,
Sing she did, but not in glee,
Her notes just yielded pity for me -
My crafted, worded toy
Failed to give me joy.

I pleaded Storm to hear,
This boat of mine to steer,
He took a portion, not the whole,
Of my rudderless, reckless soul -
In two my heart was torn,
In silence, grief was born.

The pearl from oyster shell
That's not to buy or sell,
In frenzied lust I snatched away
And wore as jewel night and day -
It caused my heart to fade,
And wither into shade.

I looked up at the sky
And cried to the heavens high:
Return to me the virgin bliss,
Of innocence green, which I now miss!
Not an answer came;
Futility is my name.

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