Leaves have no wings, however they fly | Belayat Masum

Contemporary Bangla poetry, Bangla translated poetry, Bangladeshi poetry.

I’m rejoicing in the festival
A house full of wholehearted people
That disconsolate in the light of drowsiness
Around the old shadow.

The festival may standstill around me
With the appellation of flower —
Maybe I will stand on the edge of a forest
Being my own last rites.

Looking at such a golden dull leaf
I hear the sound of burning the clock
Ceremonies are surrounded by my corpse
The escaping sunshine finds no pathway.

A green cactus is stuck in the eyewink
As if a camel returning from the desert
Seeks water of thirst in the folds of stone;
At the end of the festival
I will also go for wayfaring
Enumerating the words in the record.

The leaves were dried in the sun
Eyes about to die,
An unprecedented time begins to bow down at ease—
I stand near him
Under my own shadow
I fly some distance like a leaf.

Leaves have no wings, however they fly
As many times I say such words— the bird laughs up.

I have thought a lot about you
Maybe many others also imagine
Days passed with the fragrance of flowers
Gone are the old walls of thought.

I have eye-glasses on
There is smell of starry night
I do not know how distant the sea is
I know your distance today.
I hear the clouds melodious tune everyday
And the coming and going of birds
Whose childhood is in the grass?
He forgets his old adornment.

I feel our love is the bright glow of the sunset
A rainy afternoon in a happy household
The warm breeze of Morocco.

I think I will be gladsome
One day I will run away from myself—
I think somewhere far away
Runaway with two legs
Going around I stand at your door.
I will go somewhere
Like a weary man, on a wandering day;
There is no such doorway in the world
That will inhibit me from being happy.

I can fly whenever I close my eyes
With such habit I go to the house of birds
Don’t get inebriated — the pristine lesson of bird’s scripture
Accepting, I carry on wandering.
Enchanted birds kiss me on the cheek.
They propose me to be the lover of an adolescent bird
But I’m human, cannot hide the inebriation,
I’m addicted to oxygen since birth.
Inebriated people don’t think the others as inebriated
With such words I make my lover bird to be conscious of
Faraway — from the bird’s nest I keep flying
Flying over and over, I lose the directions
Gentle breeze just like my lover’s soft hands
Keep hovering with me —

Transleted by - Sujana Islam

Original poetry- পাতার ডানা নাই তবুওতো উড়ে