We basically express our mind through any language.

 

 

Mastering the language of expressing deeper thoughts

is beyond the capacity of man.

 

 

During the primitive ages when language had limited

expressions man would express his thoughts drawing

scribbles on the wall. Language is his most powerful medium.

 

 

In his eyes there lies language; hands; feet, tongue, lips and

hair also have expressions. Apparently, nails are lifeless,

but out of their scratches they express hidden and invincible

desires. Hair can grow after being cut, and again grows long.

 

 

Yet in the matter of judging beauty it has a  high dignity.

Silky, tender and black hair demands money in billions

all over the world. Even after neglecting all other limbs,

the poet wanted to give away countries like Samarkand

and Bokhara only for a mole on the cheek.

 

 

There has not been any transaction of physical language

between you and me for a long time. The little use of oral

language cannot exceed the reach of necessity.

You use language only when the necessity out of family

goes down to the lee; that is you want money.

 

 

You have wanted nothing except money for a long time.

You have not opened your heart to me for a long time.

 

I also have not wanted anything; I only go on changing sides

at night; at a moment sleep takes me away to an unknown realm.

It has been a long time that I go to sleep by pills.

Thus days, nights, weeks, years pass,

and my boat gaps at different ports of the world.

 

I have none to open my heart to

and I go on wailing so.

That wailing remains ever unheard to all.

Only a few birds and few animals are still

around me. I speak only with birds;

I exchange feelings only with animals.

 

A farmer has his own language; with the strokes

Of the sharp blade of his plough  piercing the hard bosom

Of earth, he opens out the golden gifts of crops.

 

 

A blacksmith with the heat of bellows breaking the

heart of iron and making it malleable gives it forms

of anything he likes with his intimate love.

 

 

The language of medicinal plants is responsive to the feeling of

a healer. He always looks for cessation of other people’s diseases

smashing out the extract from leaves, entering the depth of buds

and crushing on the mortal and pestle. He divides all   people

according to three diseases; rheumatism, bile and cough.

 

 

A gardener takes care of a garden. In winter flowers like bokul

and shefali bloom, but how much does he watch them? Pressing the foot

print on the cheek of shefali whose daughter extracts out her blood?

Whose daughter makes garlands for one whom she has never seen

In life? Leaving her parent’s house will she go to an exile?

 

 

A goldsmith bring out gold out of ash.

Whose fascinating ornament does he make mixing a bit alloy?

Once there was the use of gold coins. Now they are

under threat of extinction. In the dueling of paper and metal

the later has given way and gone away far.

 

 

The paper notes now fly all over the world of money.

In course of time paper notes may be replaced with plastic.

Now I see the flow of plastic ones here and there.

 

 

Perhaps, gradually all mints will go out of use

as video audio and electronic media have spread

in the places of print media. Still now some poets

write on the bosom of paper.

I am one among those obsolete poets;

I am going on making the right medicine smashing

in a large iron mortar and pestle like my ancestors.

 

 

 

2 February 2013

 

 

 

"ভাষা"   কবিতার অনুবাদ  ।

[Translated by Dulal Al Monsur]