January 23, 2018

Beyond the Scene

poem

Beyond the Scene

Shahinur Islam


The life that roams about beyond the scene,

beyond the limitless bank— in the dark

lays eggs and in the womb of the night brags

to see the baby of the golden age;

the life that puts aside days and adores

or still prays for nights, is uncaught lifelong,

a bait of cheats, a colourful cover—

which holds the cosmic darkness, the black hole.

It’s magic from the scene for the unseen.

The greed for unseen life snatches the youth

offered in cash in the grove of honey;

the lovers of the city just come back

with naked hands and sink into the dark

in the unbearable and painful nook.

Then that life makes no difference with that

which goes on with worshiping the darkness.

Such a life is for all time a blossom

unsmelt, untasted and pale in neglect

before it gets withered eternally,

a bath in the puddle of the vast sea

despite its having a pool of water.

Then who is this discolored life lent to

and which rule is laid down to suffocate

and pulverize it between the grinders?