But everyone’sdream is precious.
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A shadow of horror shows.
that floats in a tree.
A gust of air-borne hope from kitchen-
Carrying the smell of a broken egg-Thrown upon frying-pan and hot dog,Adding to the hunger fed mope and pain.
You are my teacher, Oh vast Sky
And never to limit any bird to fly.
There
In the golden sunshineOf the afternoon.YouRaised your handSlender, wet with rainsOf our nostalgic youth.SoftlyThe flight of birdsResounded the orange chantsOf the once green temple of lust.YouThrew a slender smileMelancholy over the bowOf your hazel green eyes.
Like in the past,
paints vermilionon the forehead of the sky.But alas, you’re no more eagernowhere near today, hereto put vermilion in my nameon your forehead with love.This is a translation of the poemସଖୀ-02 (Sakhi_02)/Odia PoembySubhas Chandra Chakra
ମନ ତଳେ ଥିଲା ଅଭିମାନ
ଏତେ ପାଖେ ଥିଲା ମୋ ଆସନଘେରିଥିଲା ନୀରବତା ବାଡ!ତୁମ ସହ କଥା ହେବି ବୋଲିକେତେ ଦିନୁଁ ଦେଖୁଚି ସପନ,ଅଥଚ ମୁଁ ତମ ପାଶେ ପାଶେଥାଇ, ଆଜି ରହିଲି ମଉନ!ମୁଁ ଜାଣିଚି ତମେ ମୋର କଥାବିନା ଶବ୍ଦେ ବୁଝି ନେଇପାର,ତଥାପି ମୋ ମନ ତଳେ ବ୍ୟଥା-ବ୍ୟାକୁଳତା କଥା କହିବା ର! !