Month: September 2015

Poem Translated by Mohammad Zaman

Wood Pencil by Faruk Wasif   I am a wood pencil. I carry no eraser. I am made of a fossilized dark night and of dark bone. Whatever way you sharpen the core It is nothing but frozen blood of a dark bird and I am his brother.Come with a razor in your hand And sharpen me once again before you write. Hard to imagine. But yes – Sharpening over and over makes me lean. I loose my body. My remains are nothing but few left over petals of Bakul flower. I speak in empty points. Music is the...

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Poem Translated by Shafinur Shafin

Fury by Al Imran Siddiqui Ringer is not enough to show hatred now ; only to utter some fatal words in sleep! People can neither rule nor resist the past – only to get angry. Cat jumps at the flying bubbles, stretch feeble paws. I realized, the flowers are same as those grief has derived from me-  drops out on the water. About the Poet Al Imran Siddiqui is a Bangladeshi poet and also one of the prominent poets of new generation. He has a published book in Bengali named Kath Thokrar Ghordor (Woodpecker’s Home)...

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Poem Translated by Imran Ahmed Patwari

A Few Lines Written after Excessive Drinking by Sayed Jamil When I used to kiss Synthy’s lips, her hole would get wet. I want to compose a righteous book about the relation between Mouth and Hole. Walking between life and pain I often shake hands with cheaters and bastards. Slap the hell out of death. Now that huffy son of a bitch has turned his back on me. I’ll turn life into coins and smoke cigarettes with it. Make sounds while lighting the match. I’ll exhale the smoke and laugh out like Doctor Syed Al doggy. “How’re the days...

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Three Poems based on H. C. Andersen’s Fairy Tales by Tabish Khair

Prayer (‘Thumbelina’)   Grant me a little child I can hide When the mullahs come home to pray, When planes are birds of prey.   Someone Smaller than my thumb I can put in my pocket and run.   Immigrant (‘The Little Mermaid)   It hurts to walk on new legs: The curse of consonants, the wobble of vowels.   And you for whom I gave up a kingdom Can never love that thing I was.   When you look into my past You see Only Weeds and scales.   Once I had a voice. Now I have legs....

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Three Poems by Scott Hastie

A need for connection   A need for connection, Attachment. Drawn in, enchanted by Resonances with nature And the kinship of others, With beauty Forged by heart’s endeavour. And so should we Always aspire to polish Such precious attainment With love, A blessed friction of sorts That allows us To birth our night into day And bathe it clean, So that beloved things can glow Together in a litter of light. The day is done   The day is done And no one is immune, It’s true. That sense of a voyage Slips seamlessly past, For there is a...

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