The village looking blue is like the dark line at a distant horizon.
The corn fields, homes, houses and rivers—all are found in that village.
Also, there are the golden sunlight and fresh days. At times
The rains pour. The whistling birds are found in a large number.
Crows, Kites, Sparrows, Pigeons, Parakeets, Black drongos and Shalik.
There are flowers: Land-lotuses, Roses, Malati, Jui and Keya.
Man, Cows, Buffalos—all are available in all areas of that village.
Even, rivulets have been flowing, and they have ferry-boats.
There is a blue-eyed girl keeping mum in that blue looking village.
As if many a word is embracing each other in her dark wide eyes.
Her body blossomed with ravishing beauty puts on a coloured sari.
The wind and the language of the river generate thrills in her bosom.
The village looking blue is at a long distance in the far horizon.
In that village males and their wives decorate their households.
Farhad to Shirin
Shirin, will you understand and feel my sorrows?
Why I am passing days in joylessness in the world.
I stay in a desolate land. All requiems and songs expressing pains
Inject consolation into me. All these carry value to me.
Where flowers bloom of their own, and none haunts there,
There I keep going only for the sake of peace.
Shirin, nobody belongs to me and I also belong to none,
I am a lone soul,—a companionless bathed bird on a desolate branch.
Some white stars in the distant sky in the early hours of morning
Enkindle soothing lamps. The dejected wind blows among trees
As if in the afflicted deep sighs of some who are unknown.
How beautiful are the fields, rivers and grass in the moonlit night.
Shirin, your face flashes across my mind, how sweet it is!
You can only make me listen to the tune of delight.
Shirin to Forhad
So much bliss in loving you! In my heart
Only your love exists all night long, it stirs me all day long,
O beloved. The flowery sunny days and the darkness of bright stars
Come down. Alas! In my presence in mental anguish.
O beloved, I do not get you by my devastated body:
So many blissful nights embalmed with perfume of tuberoses
Appear meaningless—so many amorous moments all the day.
My restless two hands are lying by my body.
I am listless and worried listening to a lonely bird chirping.
The calm shades in the evening, the whisperings of the wind
Inject pains into me. I commit mistakes in all my works.
Your sweet lips flash across my mind time and again.
O Dear, will you not turn up, will you not enamour my life?
My life will be gratified with your touches!
Original: Omar Ali
(Omar Ali (20 October 1939 – 3 December 2015), born in Satul Komorpur, Pabna Sadar Upazila, was a famous Bangladeshi writer and poet. For his poetic accomplishments, he was awarded Ekushey Padak by the Government of Bangladesh in 2017.)
Dr. Gazi Abdulla-hel Baqui is a modern poet, researcher and translator.
