Translated from the Bengali by Subhadip Maitra

Light’s Disease

Imagine, you have stumbled upon the light,
Imagine, you are in much need of the light,
Delighted, you have captured it in your hat, and
Someone appears at the moment – he needs that light.

What will you do?
Will you arrange it neatly and hand over
Or turn your head away?

He was the candidate,
He, who was the disease of your luminance.

_

Dearest Satan

Clouds thunder in the sky. The luminance of the sun pales.
Bamboo in its grove careens
From afar comes the sound
Of someone’s footsteps….

Do you remember
Someone’s blood was on your lips one day
Someone drowned in your tumultuous waves

Much later I learned –
Many bathe there in tandem.

Devouring all
Now with eternal youth
How are you doing
Dearest Satan?

_