Under the morning breeze
Silver dew burns
The fragrance falls in the air.
Manik Chakraborty, a renowned rhymer from Bangladesh, shares his poetry
Poet Manik Chakraborty, a man of simple nature, is a well-developed and intellectual consciousness in the unique creations of Bengali Rhymes Literature. The free movement of rhymes written by Manik Chakraborty is about people’s thoughts and feelings, hopes and desires, feelings of joy and pain. This gifted poet who loves pure culture and literature is a bank employee but spends most of his leisure time as a writer and a literary organizer. He is always present in the meetings of the country’s young and old famous poets and literary rhymers to gain knowledge in organizational activities. Manik Chakraborty, known as “The Rhyme Composer of Time” made ‘Mirror’ with rhymes, in which the readers can easily see every aspect of the nation and the society. Fearlessly truthful rhymer Manik Chakraborty has composed the priceless collection of rhymes in his long pursuit. The entire composition was published as a poetic book named “Manik Chakrabortyr Chhora Samagra” by Pratibha Publication and launched at “Amar Ekushe Book fair 2017”. Manik Chakraborty was born on 1st February 1966 in Munsir Hat North Sripur, Feni, Bangladesh and presently resides in Fatullah of Narayanganj, Bangladesh. He has published seven rhyme books and a prose book. He has received ten awards for his writings. Simple-minded poet Manik Chakraborty is popular in the literary world of Bangladesh and Kolkata.
THE AIR IS SCENTED
Neelima blue saree
Home of autumn clouds
Jochana smiles in the sky,
Kashfule swings
Untie the knot
Pollen molecules float in the air.
The horizon is across the field
Grass buds fly
Fragrance fills the soul,
The arrival of autumn
Hilarious body and mind
Singing in the voice.
Under the morning breeze
Silver dew burns
The fragrance falls in the air.
Bird’s collar
Glory to the bees
Playing in the flower garden.
***
IN THE TEARS OF YOUR EYES’ WET BODY
Maybe see you again
Some autumn afternoon.
Among the green carpets
Shruti Katar sat down
Recounts lost days.
Gangchil Patihans will fly in the sky.
Looking at faded vision
In the tears of your eyes
Wet body
Maybe talk again,
In fallen worn leaves
Sanai will ring.
Maybe will come again
With the moaning of Nidarun Chait.
Bubuksu heart will wake up
Receiving your warmth
I will float in the tears of Shravan
Clouds will come closer
The flute will play in the wind.
__________________
Received from Angela Kosta Executive Director of MIRIADE Magazine, Academic, journalist, writer, poet, essayist, literary critic, editor, translator, promoter
