Shabdaguchha
Shabdaguchha
Tushar GayenRebornHolding me in its womb and casting its Gloomy shadow, the bird keeps on flying through the sky Its enormous wings form the gusty wind into a storm Keeping the emotional emptiness in its centroid. Where’s the boundary? Cracking the ground there sprouts The tender grasses . . . the water of rivers and fountains first Become a shadow, through its gloomy Existence, it eventually forms into clouds. There’s no cloud in my vacuum of blue. Where have you taken me, uninvited? Opening your womb as you dropped me Tearing the layer of wind, the weight shifted On the umbilical cord . . . in a vast unknown and Unexpected watered field. No wings, no tail, only a humanoid creature Keeping the left out remembrance And gripping the salty lake water into its imperishable teeth I feel a sudden bump of rocks and coral on my feet. That’s it, that might be the ground, Again a land of human beings. Tushar Gayen (1967 - ), author of two collections of poetry, became a Canadian immigrant in 2005. Later, he came to New York as a student. Though he got his masters degree in Architectural Science from Ukraine, he is again pursuing graduate study at City College of CUNY. Translated from the Bengali by Hassanal Abdullah |