Sunday Translation By Padmakali Kar (Original : Mohammad Nurul Huda)
A sliver of the moon whitewashed with the milk from a cow’s udder,
gets rid of it’s jaundiced appearance as it recuperates to assume fullness.
The entire sky drowns in the inscrutable light of the full moon..
Songs celebrating immorality resonate in the hives of the stars and in the alleys of the milky way.
In the moonshine, shadows of a bunch of fireflies pierce the hearts of the faraway stars.
Men twinkle like stars and sometimes turn into black holes –
In the moonlight the branches of the casuarina look like a comb scratching furiously the bosom of the full moon in vain.
The full moon is a virgin laying a trap on the shadowy grass for hapless men.
Moonstruck men in search of immorality try to devour the white moon.