To Chandipada Chakraborty
(Translated by Rifat Munim)
If you go down that road
Once past the Kautali Bridge you’ll see
Houses built as best they could.
The air is thick with the smell of farmers, plows and oxen.
The river flows like the furrow appearing on the forehead of a farmer—
Vast green is this empire
of sadness.
Hanging from the frame of the gourd vines
You’ll see the flag of a sari, all wet and blue.
The buzzing of flies satiate with the smell of dried fish.
You’ll see on the edge of Bhadugarh has bloomed
A pale korobi of dereliction
Still placing her trust on my spurious promises!
(Translation of “Raasta”)
