READERS' POEMS
They keep coming--mainly by post-- to 19 Kawran Bazar, falling like autumn leaves on my desk, poems from our readers. It's been a year since we published readers' poems last May, and when the file marked 'Stuff' grows bulky and unwieldy, as fat as the stone Buddhas in a Chinatown restaurant, when it reaches critical mass, it is time to publish some of them again. Again, I have to admit I am surprised by the number of Bangladeshis spread far and wide in this green land of ours who, however tenuous their hold on the English language, long to write poems in English. And though I do not pretend to understand all of the poems sent to the Literature page, cannot figure out each and every meaning hidden in the broken lines, the hobbled syntax and garbled words, yet there runs through nearly all of them a melancholy, a tremor of sadness for which I cannot but feel sympathy. Life is hard for most of us here; harder yet it is sometimes to put that life into English words. Now, a different matter. It has been brought to my attention by some readers that not only poems, but short stories from our readers also ought to be published once in a while in the Literature page. Okay, so be it. If enough short stories are sent in from which a couple can be chosen, they too will be published under the banner of 'Readers' Short Stories.' But only if enough of them come in. --Editor, Literature Page
Summer's Love The orange sun was too tired to glare,
The leaves were too lazy to rustle,
And I was to deep in my dreams about you,
To feel the water playing at my feet.
It was summer, and you were out at sea,
Waiting to find some new land.
And, I, my love, was waiting for you.
Waiting to find you.
Waiting to hold you, and breathe your breath.
I was waiting for you.
The summer breeze was playing with my
golden strands
tickling my ears, talking to me.
Telling me you would come soon.
And raised a new hope that I would be able
to hold you soon.
The butter-gold butterflies danced before my eyes
The red tulips gently swayed in the breeze
The sparrows came to invite me to their nests
The yellow canaries and white pigeons flew by
Mother Nature talked to me.
My feet were dipped in the blue 'River of Dreams’
Where the sweet, cold water caressed my skin
I wet my hand in the 'River of Dreams’
And saw my future sparkle in the sun.
I saw your face glitter in the water, happy,
So near--yet so far.
I was waiting for you to come
To breathe your breath
To touch you, to feel your skin
To dream in the 'River of Dreams', with you.
The gentle summer breeze in my golden strands
The red tulips swaying in the breeze
The silence of the lazy leaves
Your glittering face in the river
Were all signs.
All signs, that my only dream--to find you,
Was soon to come true.
That my summer's wait would end soon.
Sophia Carmine Dhaka
|
|
