A bit more warmth in the steps.

A dot of sweet perspiration with a tender flowery touch

bloomed on the tip of the nose.

 

 

Was it sleep on you

that followed you after lunch-a nap?

Stepping with a bit of staggering-

eyes like beaming light,

like a pair of stars

just once twinkling

go under the shadow of cloud.

Was there a flowery question blooming out?

Meeting after so long a time!

Oh that the same cheek with the intact dimple

only a little touch of black

in the corner of your eyes

exchanging your garland with sorrow;

you've got the sore of its kisses.

I meet you after so long a time;

but look, the dust on our ground still seems so familiar.

At that time inside my heart I felt singing of sprouts

with the strings of winds.

A dot of perspiration on the tip of your nose-

from a far distance a dream vermin flashed light on the eyes,

and our of that light I meet you after so long a time.

 

 

Against the changes in Nature's seasons,

little moment of seeing or not is really a trifle.

Yet it is memorable like the falling of Shefali or the sunset at sea.

Dews of winter morning fall with yellow stalks in a moment.

With the twinkling of the orange sun downs.

After so long a time we are meeting,

but look, all the grass on our path seems alive.

After you had gone away in the afternoon touching evening

in front of the college a venomous snake would cry out.

Still today it seems to me that it cries on.

 

 

You, the only, immortal witness of time, in a dark brown sari

seem to ascend up towards heaven

even today.

 

 

On coming back to mango grove on the way at Baghghona

one finds hills on both sides;

moonlight seems awake as if in watch.

A stream of melody comes down to the plain;

please, tell me how long ago you sang?

 

 

Dhaka:- May 22, 1975

 

[Translated by Dulal Al Monsur]