They fly away
To an unknown place
With a promise to come back
When I am cool, calm and positive
and decorate the nest
with optimistic outlook
They fall from the boughs
Like the leaves of an autumn tree
Tuckered out and faded away
But with a promise
To sprout out again in green
If you bring back the sunny spring
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কবির বয়স
যে বয়স লুকবোবরং বলি দ্যাখ মেয়েচল্লিশের উপরেও কেমন সু ঠা ম আছিপক্ক কেশ আর দাড়ি কেমন দিচ্ছে শোভাসেই খুশিতেই এখনও মনে ফুটে ফুলগায়ে লাগে মিহি দক্ষিণে হাওয়াআর বাসে ট্রামে বয়স্ক বলে সীট পাইচাঁদের হাটে অভিঞ্জ বলে পাই অগ্রাধিকারহাতের আঙ্গুলের কড়ে তাদের আমি আমার বয়স গুনাইআর বলে বলে ভাঙ্গি তাদের ঘ্যাম, মুখে তুলাই ফেনাদ্যাখ মেয়ে, একদম…
You make me to wait
From your workAnd you behave like a jerkMake me feel so badSimply you are make me madLie after lieYou whine and make fussNo end of the woeStill I forgive youGive you honeyBut you are always after moneyYou are not worth of a dimeIt is really a pityLong you have been doing a crime.
The art of simple talking
And in the process want to learn the art of talkingThen you are requested to sit down beside meOne more request to youPlease do not take me as sageI will not take you eitherSages are all known peopleIf they are not fool then they are misinformed about all thingsThey are confident enough on what concerns…
Unshared secrets
in some unknown vaultare very sadLack of lightThey are dying in the darkThey wantedTo be bornTo breatheLike you and mebut we were afraidof the truthif you would reveal yoursand I reveal mineit could have beena drop of rainit could have beena zigzag streamI could have my bathYou could satiate your thirstThe rain could haveMingled with…
You and the adroitly attired new sun
To get moisture in the morningMy desire peeps in daily and remains dryWhen your conceit changes dirty dressStill I am your client in your autumnal luxurious marketAnd at high price your farce I buyThe burning flute of bamboo of June- July is not adequateYet the smoke of burning tune strikes the nostrilsOf this unfortunate poet.
It never takes me
To travel from the Levant peopleTo the people of MinoaVia yellow river, Norte ChicoEgypt, Harappa and MesopotamiaI’d seen enough falls and risesLike the ocean’s weavesEmbedded with few moment’s high tidesAnd receding low ebbsWhile living in houses of Uruk and MemphisI encountered with enough love and hateTo satisfy their basic instinctsSome went too low, some were…