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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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