Five Poems from Tears of the Sun
by Shahinur Islam
We never enter Eternity,
Nor do we come from,
Yet we live in Eternity;
There exists our home.
For it begins not with death;
Rather death ends a phase
That begins with our birth;
And all our life do we gaze.
The Song of the Bended Morning
Riding the back of the bended morning,
We have to go again to the death bed
Of the sprawled twilight where varied colours
Play with one another for a moment,
And then fade away in the work-black dark.
Takshoks call too in the hair-drop silence,
The rustle of leaves too becomes distinct
Like the fretfulness enveloped in smiles,
Or like a sudden flash of a lit heart
Veiled in the forced darkness of Africa.
At first hour, we’ll feel creepy in terror,
Yet to wipe the weariness heaped all day,
That terror will be evaporated.
Oh Sisyphus! We’re still dripping with sweat
On stones like you making no flowers bloom.
As if we obeyed the law of some god.
Those who are Dead
The dead are happy;
The happy are dead.
They don’t long for their new birth or rebirth
Like the breathing men, like the unhappy.
They don’t have any strong lust to shred things,
To bow their head once and hold up always.
The dead are perfect;
The perfect are dead.
Their heart is content with desire of life.
No privation, no raggedness, no draught
Touches them like the flowers bloomed at dawn;
Their soul doesn’t grow like the eroding brooks.
They never build up anything with pain
Of the thorns, with pangs of the breaking down.
In the New Light of the New Path
If light is lost in light
Around the edges of the dark,
If the path is lost in a path
With a great love for it,
You and I will meet then
At that light and that path.
We’ll see new light being kindled
At the end of the path.
With that light in our eyes,
We will travel new lands.
When It is Time
Let the delayed dawn of the lazy night
Unfasten the arm-ties of life today.
Let the desired knot be severed today.
What though there was no longer embracing
With the leaves having fallen on the ground?
The dream that is asleep in heart of seeds
Will kindle the fire being its own ruin.
You will come across ashes all alone
Upon and down which there is nothing else.
Yet there will lie buried in their own midst
The diamond in seeming calm of neglect.
When it is the exact need of our time
It must radiate glows over again.