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We are not dead yet – even as scenes are born:
Mahin’s horses eat grass in the wilderness of the full moon On an autumn night,
All the horses of the Stone Age – still grazing
On the shapeless dynamo called earth. Looking for grass.
The scent of the stables floats in a crowded night breeze;
The piercing sound of a depressed straw
Falling through a steel mill;
The tea cups – asleep like kitten, in the
fuzzy grasp of mangy dogs
Turned into frost at the pice-restaurant over there
The calmness of time
Extinguishes the paraffin-lanterns at the round stables;
As the neolithic hush of the full moon bathes these horses.


This is a translation of the poem ‘Ghoda’ by Jibanananda Das. This is a small tribute for the great poet on his birth anniversary.

DISCLAIMER: All Images Used In This Post Have Their Respective Copyrights

About Agnivo Niyogi

Typical Aantel, reader, blogger, news addict, opinionated. Digital media enthusiast. Didi fanboi. Joy Bangla!

Posted on February 17, 2020, in poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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