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Chaitali Chattopadhyay


The Theatre

Before the hollowness it became bright for the last time. The wallpapers glew with light. Those bandmasters came then. Behind the moments, I served you the chilly drink. Come on dear, it is you, the civilization. To thee, a barking deer like like thee we can make thyself lovely through us. Come now. And it is the time for you. And just like burning bee I will touch it and will see through the roaring tide of brightness the bursting dream of those street-walkers. I will touch you, those dying people, who swallowed the blues with themselves.

Translated by the poet


Love-Songs

Those papers, I have torn out. And it flew with the wind. There, on the hill, where stood the devil's den and the shadow becomes demon, will it reach out there ? You also didn't come along or if you. . . the hanging lamp shaded the appearance and the shadowy way to the top slowly moves itself through the darkness and terror. Those are the times for you. Sitting on the dusty carpet the musical tone makes you nearer, you and your way to be. There, the hilltop blindness and here, the struggle for existence, between the two ways. Anyway, I will come to know how to be something. The cross for myself will light me then.

Translated by the poet

 








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