Translator: Anindyasundar Bandyopadhyay
FROM THE INNER SOUL OF LIFE CYCLE
One solitude darkness helds head like a old banyan tree
sometimes destructive strom arises at sea
sometimes the earth feels sudden quiver
the siren of famine shouted largely .
Rain causes landslide at the depth of heal’s body
often life taking femine at darkest day
carries the burden of infinite life .
Black silence spread on the cemetery of villages and towns
it is the naked autocracy of human beings
sign of blood , rape and loot at the alley of society
bloodshed due to clash of religions
hungry people seek for foods at path
animal and human fight for food at dustbin .
Though rugged , still the world demands rights
vaunting with indicating finger ,
the blackmarketiers make profit at this darkness
destruction of humanity due to human beings,
the nature roars at the invansion of human
like a silent reaction of long centuries.
AT MY SENSATION
When numb body starts bleedings
that sound is sharp like birth pain.
All my womb has torn down
whole body quivers like a caged bird,
my blood cover myself .
As in the breast of clouds thunder is kept secretly;
in hope of giving light someday.
nobody has written!
that golden periods are passed.
The earth is also has mensturation in some rainy evening.
there was pain, enigma of muscles, toxic pain in the ribs
although emancipation was there in the ocean of poison
i touch by these hands.
Do not remember me
if not worthy of remembering,
by the song of nightingle
let some nights of future keep drenching.
THE LETTER FROM MEMORY
Nothing new to give you
i know what I gave is old to you ,
at the plait of life feather of recall
touches me in momentum of leisure.
My old colony , house
how many faces were witness of sunny days.
If the destination of two would be separate.
We keep going at distance
nobody would remember that stupid past
my name would be deleted from your diary
though some reference would be sited
admit that it is better
just remember that
some slams had given you
the light of sweet evening.
IN HIDDEN CURRENT
Heavy tornado in the sky
playing of gunpower at air
corpses are gathered at highroads.
I lost my dreamland
in the dusty path
i broke down my loving portico
you have left from my life.
You say why not the spring come
the colour festival not coming!
at the tie of rules , flower, leaves had fallen.
The sound of life had surpassed at debris
i played holy in bloodshed
i come to severe war
i saw your deadly face’s scar
by some sharp weapon .
Sriparna De (7th January, 1989. Berhampore, West Bengal) is an Indian writer . Sriparna was interested in writing since childhood. She loves to write to feel her own existence. She thinks that poetry is gentle breath in his daily dusty life. Her father is the only inspiration for writing. After finishing her studies, she started teaching in a college. She was involved in that work for four years. But writing was her birth intoxication. She is currently engaged in that work. She has written many poems, stories and essays. Her writing have been published in various Indian magazines. Her first book of poetry ‘Somoyer Snako’ was published at Kolkata Internatiol Book Fair in 2016. Anindyasundar Bandyopadhyay has chosen few unpublished poem and made their translation.
(Translator) Anindyasundar Bandyopadhyay (3rd January 1982. Bankura, West Bengal) is an enginner by profession and author by passion. His writing have published in different Indian magazines like Desh, Anandamela, Sananda, Sukhtara etc. He loves to experiment with different type of writing.