Nirmolendu Goon's Poetry in Translation. Translated from Bengali by Kayes Ahmed.
Shabdaguchha: Logo2 edited by: Hassanal Abdullah issue: 59/60








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    Nirmolendu Goon 
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Shabdaguchha: The 15th Anniversary Issue


    Poetry In translation

    Nirmolendu Goon

    02

    So, does the body hold the mind?
    Or is it the mind that peeks out of the body?
    Fifty four summers has vanished and yet
    The quarrel goes on!!
    The war between mind and body
    Leaves Batsayon torn in blood and tears.

    Rational mind rules, the mighty mind
    The body is thrown under feet
    Self denial, the body loses the war
    Master of self denial, Batsayon!!

    The truth, the truth comes
    Even though unrelenting days of hardship are over,
    He knew it is the body and the essence of manhood
    Not the mind, never the mind.
    Mind changes and takes shape of the container
    Mind changes over time, from place to place
    Mind acts to survive the times, but
    The body is still, ancient
    The drive of desire is the truth
    The truth that made Galileo unmovable.


    03

    The rice is boiling over
    Rice will get sticky, oh so sticky…
    Let it be, I will eat it sticky.

    Don’t! My sari ahh;
    The rice is boiling over
    Rice will get sticky, oh so sticky…
    Let it be, you stay here
    I will eat it sticky.


    04

    Chondi Das, a poet of all ages,
    He never read Batsayon.
    I have studied him
    Like there was nothing else to do.

    Batsayon taught me woman,
    Taught me lovemaking
    The way to cum and cum again;
    Life would end up at zero
    The fame of poems does not even begin to
    Compare with being in rapture,
    Just once!

    I got him only once but he gifted me
    Millions of lives and billions of years.


    06

    Rape, the clear sky trembles with every thrust from the dark cloud.

    Rain in the city? A joke I think.
    Rain in country, where you walk in water, yes!
    I found her there by accident of birth.

    I came out of the womb, the sky was ripped open
    Rain came as if in ecstasy,
    Birth chamber coals wet and useless.
    I can claim Rain as my mother,
    Wraps me up in her enveloping embrace.

    Rain in Dhaka, keep looking up
    Empty sky makes my heart burst,
    A song, maybe, a homage more likely.

    Translated from the Bengali by Kayes Ahmed

    Dhaka


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Shabdaguchha, an International Bilingual Poetry Journal, edited by Hassanal Abdullah