(Translated by Sonia Nishat Amin)
Beside the faded grass
Brittle shards of bone—yours, mine
Are strewn all around
The news has spread all over
On wisps of mist
Foreheads tatooed
We search each other's faces
Is there any room inside?
Are we alive and thriving?
Surreal shadows cloaked in mist
Have silently taken their places by our sides
A great carnival is about to commence
Our corpses will be dug up from their ancient graves
Yours? Mine? Whose skeleton walks about
In the tournament?
Let us gather around, then,
In gleeful anticipation
Over here beside the gaping mounds of earth.
(From a forthcoming book that contains 34 random poems in Sonia Nishat Amin’s translation, from Rabindranath to Ruby Rahman. There are three from Sankhya Ghosh including “Baburer Prarthona”)