Sunil Gangopadhyay poem, Beyond Birth or Death, Translated by Shyamashri Ray Karmakar

Nilim Kumar poems, Indian poems in English, Translated by Jayita Mukherjee

 

Two poems of Nilim Kumar

The Rain

His heart,

A high head hill.

I touch him 

As if I'm a cloud .

Collide against his rock hard chest sometimes 

drenching the hills

the trees, homes and fields

I glide down.

They think that  I am the rain.

The Sea

This is why the sea can never sleep.

Everytime the moon dips in his chest

Along with the stars to bathe.

The wind too longs to sleep with him

As do the snails and fish.

His heart blushes in crimson blee

Glancing at the fleet of boats and ships 

Still he falls in love with  the lass

Who picks up shells on the beach

In his arms she never submits

This is why the sea never sleeps.

Translated by Jayita Mukherjee 

Chaitali Chattopadhyay poems, Indian poems in English, translated by Soumi Sankhari

 

Homely

Chaitali Chattopadhyay 

He took the responsibility of her living.

She cooked nutritious food.

Star studded he returned  home in the evening.

She furbished home with care since the early morning .

He comes and goes. Comes and goes. Goes, comes and goes.

She buys rice, pulses and smile without even losing a breath.

He is into cards, sometimes into theatre. 

She plays sitar on air, without strings.

He went somewhere and left his mind there.

With swollen eyes she took tranquilizers.

He is there but still there he isn’t. 

She sleeps, gets up and walks as if in dream.

Will they part ways? Won't they opt for children?

None of the mortals but God only knows  everything.

Translated by Shyamashri Ray Karmakar   

Birendra Chattopadhyay poem, Indian poems in translation, by Sourjya Roy

 

Birendra Chattopadhyay 

My India

My India

Is of 50 million

Scantily clad humans

Who toil hard in the sun

All day.

And then

Do not sleep.

For hunger or cold;

Compels them to stay awake.

Kings come and go.

Jealousy and hatred

Pollute the pages of

History.

Turns the water slimy.

Shroud air with

Impenetrable smog.

Gradually.

Conspiracies are all around.

Ravings of greedy, power-mongers

Are all around.

Battle and famine come

Together

With arms locked

In warm embrace.

Venomous fangs

Haunt the land.

And Tiger

Strikes terror.

My India knows not them

Defies their summons

Her children still shiver

In hunger,

In biting cold, amidst pummeling

From all sides.

But innocent they are

And twined in fraternal bonds.

Translated by Sourjya Roy    

Chaitali Chattopadhyay, poem, Home service, Translated by Soumi Sankhari

 

Home Service

Chaitali Chattopadhyay

When the cooking was done, the kitchen washed away fully.

Being firewood , I keep sending message,

Reiterating -" Hey! Hear me! I want food".

Different delicacies, chutney, sukto, rice and sweets..

Perhaps I give them wrong address. 

They waiver from the path, take a long road to return.

They arrive as mourning and delight 

When they arrive, by then

I have fallen asleep 

Like a cat

Steeped in the delicious smell

Of my neighbour's kitchen. 

Translated by Shyamashri Ray Karmakar