Ketan Sheikh's selected poem - Baribaho
Ketan Sheikh's selected poem on monsoon Baribaho ( The Rain ) English adaptation by Ayon Abdullah When dry anklets touch the ground, Feet pressing on the thirsty mound, The Jarul blooms stand motionless Summer’s apathy profound. Festive ledgers may unfold, Yet leaves burn, wither in the gold. The green has turned to grey, and all Parasols gather dust untold. Sun blazes in a faded sky, Wrath of many births drifting by. Where are the clouds? the question swells With nature’s sulking sigh. In the scent of water fire, In the salt of sweat desire. A burdened chest, a breath grown heavy, Wears grief like secret lyre. This earth bears heat in mournful tune, No raindrop’s dance, no monsoon’s boon. When will flowing waters cleanse This land’s age-old marooned rune? When shall Ashar’s clouds arise, Shaking rooftops, roaring skies? When shall streets in ink-black veils Turn to ponds of joyful cries? When shall Shraban...