(Translated by Farhad Ahmed)

Lovelorn

Samar Sen
In the tuberose's shadow something trembles,
Trembles who knows what
Deep within the mountain's stillness
You haven't shown up
Evening falls; the pitiful western sky,
The scent-laden wind,
And the leaves' rustling-fall.

Walkaround

Shyamol Kanti Das
For long has the dust blown in front of the ferry mooring
For long have the coolie-workers slept beside brick-kilns
Somewhere is seen sparks from fires
Somewhere steam issues forth
Somewhere the tide no longer flows
And foam has gradually congealed to iron hardness
Oars none sailors none
At the back upturned lies the broken boat
Rotten fish scattered all around
Within the sand sighs the eagle's bones
I keep on walking, fording the river of delight
Here I spot the broken bangle, there the vermilion daub
I keep on walking, crossing tangles of barbed wire
And inside the lantern shiver
Frail love and Chaitra dusk
Bit by bit my country shrinks
And like blurry trees in a lifting curtain of fog
A foreign land blooms
And yet my walk along this dirt path does not come to an end.

Farhad Ahmed is an translator/writer.