Poet’s exercise book is flying away

It seems I was going somewhere, some other horizon,

I turn back, there’s no one behind me

I’m oscillating in the wind- blowing up, your affection

As if is engulfing me.

Both of my legs

Are shaking violently

The leaves are dropping down endlessly

In front of my eyes my exercise book is flying away

I am going to write poems more and more some more years

I passed my morning and evening in juvenile game

Now I opened my fist and saw, O my god,

I’ve nothing left in my palm, but the life-line.

There’s no smell of gold coins, with melody

Its like I beg air from the wind

Money is nothing but palm of my hand- leaves of the trees

Falling down incessantly,


Like the exercise book.

Oscillating so impossibly, as if the poet is standing

The picture is standing

In the air

I look at it. It would be my own lesson.

My boat is floating on the water in front of me

I shall go far in the shoals

Is that my last destination?

May be I have my abode and bed lying there.

(translated by: Siddique Mahmudur Rahman)

[1] Al Mahmud (b. 1936), first book of poems ‘Lok Lokantar‘ was published in 1964

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