THE SUBSTANTIAL MAN

২০ শে মার্চ, ২০১৬ রাত ১০:১৪

The Substantial Man is not liked by me at all.
Seven-colored winged cap on his head, two keekers
Immensely crimson; gazing at him apparently
All the time carrying perilous things in entity.
Fire ingests and the essence of hemlock
Is drunk. He never speaks to anybody, in a troop
Of people procedure of being silence
Mastery Has. Sun-rise in hair tip,
Sunset in fingertip walking alone in indifference
Shadow walks inaudibly. Dusk descends
Somewhere secretly, takes Ozoo in woe lakes.

In Mid-night on city Mid-street on the cloud river
Mazarine boat is floated, in pile of flute architecture
Makes long bridge round the road.
Of wind, of twilight, of cities dogs,
Birds sport supports him. Hill
Besides, or in the exceeding edge of lake
His peace abode? Eye flushes looking at him.

The versatile scathe of heart burns from his eyes
All time, increased. Beside the scathe memorable
Makes valley, plants Awakening trees.
Deep root absorbs within no time wound plasma.

The Substantial Man is not liked by me at all.
Even he sits almost every night beside my table
Spread ample ink on page, on book, sometimes
Frequently strolls at balcony or
At hovel, shakes head, gazes at me with sharp
Hungry eyes, seems it absorbs my entities.









N.B: Translated from Shamsur Rahman’s poetry

০ টি +০/-০