Shakti Chattopadhay(25 November 1933 - 23 March 1995 / Baharu, 24 Parganas / India)
Abani, Are You Home?
- by Shakti Chattopadhay2
Abani, are you home?
The neighbourhood lies in sleep with doors closed But I keep hearing the night knocking at my door, 'Abani, are you home? '
Here it rains all the twelve months Here the clouds roam like cows Here the eager green grass closes in on the door, 'Abani, are you home? '
In my heart, half-dissolved, long-traveled I fall asleep within pain Suddenly I hear the night knocking at my door, 'Abani, are you home? '
I Can Go, But Why Shall I?
- by Shakti Chattopadhay1
I think, I will rather turn back So long, I have smeared so much soot in my hands Never thought of you as you are -
Now, when I stand by the gorge at night, The moon beckons, come on over - Now, when I stand mesmerized by the levee, The pyre logs call, 'come, c'mon over! '
I can go, I can go in any direction But why shall I go?
Got to kiss a long one to my kid Will go, But not right now I will take you along as well Won't go alone before time.
[Translated by Arindam Basu]
Poems by Shakti Chattopadhay, Shakti Chattopadhay's poems collection. Shakti Chattopadhay is a classical and famous poet (25 November 1933 - 23 March 1995 / Baharu, 24 Parganas / India). Share all poems of Shakti Chattopadhay.