Saturday, October 14, 2017

A rose has died

A rose has died in the garden
I shall bury it now
For it now remained a burden
Not to be given thou.
"I want to live," it might have screamed,
See the sun shine, it might have dreamed.
I want to live
I want to live
All filled with love, it might have brimmed.

©Chandrajit Mitra

P.S. The form of poetry employed is known as "Trijan Refrain" which is a nine-line poetry form with the syllable count 8-6-8-6-8-8-4-4-8 and the rhythm pattern A.B.A.B.C.C.D.D.C. The first four syllables of the fifth line are repeated as double refrain in lines seven and eight.

Friday, October 13, 2017

You stand like a mirage at far

You stand like a mirage at far
All around whom I seek,
You enchant like a distant star
And quiet, gentle and meek.
I go wander in search of you
To find, to love for days, a few,
I go wander
I go wander
But in vain, in disdain, I knew.

©Chandrajit Mitra

P.S. The form of poetry employed is known as "Trijan Refrain" which is a nine-line poetry form with the syllable count 8-6-8-6-8-8-4-4-8 and the rhythm pattern A.B.A.B.C.C.D.D.C. The first four syllables of the fifth line are repeated as double refrain in lines seven and eight.

Friday, October 6, 2017

Inktober 2017: Day 6



Day 6:
"মম হৃদয়রক্তরাগে তব চরণ দিয়েছি রাঙিয়া,
অয়ি সন্ধ্যাস্বপনবিহারী।
তব অধর এঁকেছি সুধাবিষে মিশে মম সুখদুখ ভাঙিয়া
তুমি আমারি, তুমি আমারি, মম বিজনজীবনবিহারই।।"
-রবীন্দ্রনাথ ঠাকুর

Pablo Neruda's paraphrase (included in his collection of twenty love poems and a song of despair):
"La lampara de mi alma te sonrosa los pies,
el agrio vino mio es mas dulce en tus labios:
oh segadora de mi cancion de atardecer,
como te seinten mia mis suenos solitarios!"

The following is the translation of the above excerpt in Spanish.

"The lamp of my soul dyes your feet,
the sour wine is sweeter on your lips,
oh reaper of my evening song,
how solitary dreams believe you to be mine!"

Inktober 2017: Day 5



Day 5:
A Lakshmi Puja special drawing that highlights the issue of financial inequality existing in our society.

©Chandrajit Mitra

Inktober 2017: Day 4



Day 4:
"नज़्म उलझी हुई है सीने में 
मिसरे अटके हुए हैं होठों पर 
उड़ते-फिरते हैं तितलियों की तरह 
लफ़्ज़ काग़ज़ पे बैठते ही नहीं 
कब से बैठा हुआ हूँ मैं जानम 
सादे काग़ज़ पे लिखके नाम तेरा

बस तेरा नाम ही मुकम्मल है
इससे बेहतर भी नज़्म क्या होगी"

-Gulzar

Translation:
A poem is caught in my heart
Its lines stuck on my lips
Words refuse to sit on paper
They wing around like butterflies
Long have I waited, my beloved,
Writing your name on a sheet of white paper

Your name is enough, complete
What better poem can there be?

Inktober 2017: Day 3



Day 3:
"কড়াই নূপুর মণি বাজায়ে কিঙ্কিণি
রাসরসে রথিরণে, কি মধুর শুনি।
কড়াই নত্তক রস হরি সে মুরারি, গোবিন্দ সহিত নাচে গোপেরো সুন্দরী।
ঘিরি ঘিরি ঘিরি নাচে; ঘিরি ঘিরি ঘিরি নাচে।।"
-লালন ফকির

Monday, October 2, 2017

How often

How often do you dig old letters
Smell the age old cologne
Drink the dead cold coffee
And remind how certain bruises
Are not meant to heal?
The sun rises and sets,
The calendar loses its worth
day by day.
You sit beside the albums
And turn your world upside down.
The smoke from the chimneys
Engulf your thoughts, the fire
Burn your soul, the mild wind
Blows the ashes away.
How often do you try playing
The same old country tune,
Choose the same chords along,
Sing the rhythmless song?

©Chandrajit Mitra

Inktober 2017: Day 2



Day 2:

"It is I who drinks lonelyDrink at twelve, midnight, in hotels of strange towns,
It is I who laugh, it is I who make love
And then, feel shame, it is I lie dying
With a rattle in my throat. I am sinner,
I am saint, I am the beloved and the
Beatrayed. I have no joys which are not yours, no
Aches which are not yours. I too call myself I." -An introduction by Kamala Das


Inktober 2017: Day 1



Day 1:
"মাথার ওপর আকাশ পুরছে
বাতাস বইছে অনেক জোরে
রোদ্দুরে ভয় করছে ভীষণ-
তাই কি আমায় রাখছো ধ'রে?"
-শক্তি চট্টোপাধ্যায়

Saturday, September 30, 2017

I will write about you

I will write about you
When the moon sings
A lullaby for the new born.
I will write about you
When the scorching sun
Makes the soil beg for rain.
I will write about you
When the clouds shed
A dark shade upon the land.
I will write about you
When the river overflows
And washes away all we had.
I will write about you
When the tremors deep down
Bring to surface tall minars.

©Chandrajit Mitra