Soumitra Dev

All of your beauties will be worthless
If I don’t compose poetry.
The failure titled Corona Corona till birth has kept me something away from the poems.
Even you are embarrassed, think of what an affection of ignorance of the boy is!
Yet, I see the traffic in the corners
of the tired city
There is no indication in the air of the
Dhanmondi Lake
I go to the Bengal gallery, try to find unmindfully
In the depressed air
Only I can paint your portrait.
So, I write poetry again at my own impulse
Adorn you with new metaphors.

English Translation :   Shagufta Hussein

Design : Preema Nazia Andaleeb