Some Poems from Tears of the Sun
by Shahinur Islam
My Pain is Not in My sorrow
My pain is not in my sorrow!
Sorrow? She’s the prolonged shadow
Of my happiness that with her
Lives if its light is set ablaze.
I feel pain when I’ve to bury
My own life, and live other’s life;
When I’ve to borrow other heart
And go on loving ceaselessly.
When my known mynah keeps looking
At me as that scarecrow oft does.
When my heart is served as the food
For foxes, dogs and cobra snakes.
I feel pain at that very hour;
I do feel pain in nothing else.
Mending and Rending
The tears that down your cheeks roll
And the smiles that spring from your soul,
Strike me with the same stroke.
But the former rend me as an arrow pierced,
And the latter mend me as a babui bird.
Our Life is Not So Long
Our life is not so long as to right wrongs
Of everything; so many wrongs are there
Left to pierce us as needles in our life.
Right or wrong – that remains still mystified
Like death or life, as if it’s ever pierced
With arrows of philoshopical thoughts.
Yet what we know as wrong –whatever we know
In the light of our wisdom we do not long
To spend time or to forgo our pleasure
So as to make all the wrongs corrected.
All our time is spent on the does of dreams,
Where is the time to correct all our wrongs?
So such a hope of ours too is decayed
As we will get everything in a life.
All lives will be blessed with the thing alike;
That will also never, ever come true.
Truth versus Falsehood
Falsehood we love more
As it colours us,
And lulls us to sleep
Beyond the thorny world.
And truth we hate more
As it often stings us,
And shows our real face.
We just build and live in
The palace of falsehood,
But always feign to love truth.
Yet All Deaths are Not Equal
Our soul bursts with the death of elephants,
But laughs heartily about that of ants.
Though they do feel the same pang in their deaths,
As equal we do not perceive all deaths.
The former tear the air with their loud cry,
And crying their heart out the latter die
In the very death bed of their own rooms.
The mere gulf between the two in bulk booms,
Although out of death the pang alike plumes.