Bridge to Global Literature

Let’s all remember that more and more poetry gets lost without earnest attempts at translation.Read poetry here to get a glimpse of the rhythms and resonances of languages you don’t know.

Pritam Biswas

Aug 21, 2020 | Poetry | 0 comments

Rise of a Knight

My King, bless me like a shadow.
I am looking towards tomorrow.
Your sword appears like a dragon;
Leaving the life you never look upon.
Every night my sleep runs away.
What you think has happened today?
I hear the voice of the oppressed.
Don’t you think they are getting suppressed?
My sword comes and tells me right!
Poet! Come and be a knight.
Every life has a spring.
A person never leaves his dream.
I will say “go away”.
I have a vow to go far away.

The Beacon of light is the fight.

I know only it is right.
King, endow me with courage, pride, and heaven.
Someone is ready for the fight.
It’s the rise of a knight.

A Chess With Death

It is an hour of a pandemic.
I am thinking about mankind.
When sleeping in the night,
I hear knocking just at the right.
A figure comes and it says
Come poet your time finishes.
I rub my eyes, stretch my look.
He is Death and I take my book.
Holding scythe he wears a black dress.
I see his eyes and they gaze.
“Listen to my poems,” I tell.
He says, “where your fear dwells?”
I say than “Let’s play chess.”
Death smiles and against me sits.
We play, play, and play.
I don’t know how goes the day.
Suddenly once I see my hands.
There are bones and they nothing belong.
I try to find my eyes,
But they are gone.
Death smiles and says,
“I always rip in time.”
Then I say pointing at my books,
“Look my poems are alive.”


Pritam Biswas

Pritam Biswas

Pritam Biswas is a Poet from Bangladesh.




Submit a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Ongoing Event

Ongoing Event

Upcoming Books

Ongoing Events

Antonym Bookshelf

You have Successfully Subscribed!