Sunday Poem By Uttam Chowdhury

1. The wings of mirage

No one remained.
No one remains.
Actually none remains for someone.
Only the wings of mirage
Fly in the horizon,
And the tragedy increases
In the mystery-house.e

2. Rgarding addition

Just see—you have added nothing:
Neither perception, nor intellect,
And never the talent.

Just see—you have added nothing:
Neither the morning with the afternoon,
Nor the afternoon with the evening,
And never the evening with the night.

Hence the sky breaks down
From a certain time,
The cloud from the sky,
And the particle of rain
From the cloud.

3. Ordeal

If you can, stand up on the thorns—
Let me see how you can shed blood.
If you can, hold the sinking sun;
If you can, put your hands on the fire.

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