পুরনো ওয়েবসাইট থেকে পুনরুদ্ধার করা লেখা। ছবি ও কিছু অংশ শীঘ্রই যুক্ত হবে।
Bibhas Roy Chowdhury
You
It’s not about the crazy wind.
Nor about the rain,
But it’s all about you.
It’s not about whether I win you or not,
But it’s all about you.
It’s neither about your hair, nor your kiss,
Or the oyster I found in your body.
It’s only about you.
You’re the lonely street
Which, coming out of sleep,
Could never discern me.
The Seeds of Light
Birds fly…birds fly during those daybreak
When they lose nests from one tree to another,
When there’s no tree.
They all know the universe,
Welcome the seeds of light,
And once the breaved soil have burst into tears,
They plant the tomorrow into her lips.
The Writing on you
The painting you’ve done
Is a tree sprouted from your body.
A couple of birds serenely fly away
From its branches.
The tree sheds leaves among the rain.
The clouds hover beyond the stairs and windows.
One of them is willing to desire,
But the other one sits sullen.
The clouds beyond stairs and windows
Live in your house like the pet dogs.