The mind craves to fly far away. / In the guise of a beggar, eyes wet with tears
Wishing you a happy new year! / The coming year? No, years ahead—
As if playing a game of chess / Still the world waits for the next dawn
Leave a flower from your bun when you depart, my love.
Translated by Mohammad Shafiqul Islam
In my deep sleep, you came, my love—
We’re still alive/ but they wanted to die a natural death
What’s life if a sense of darkness/ doesn’t connect night to sunlight
Jhumpa Lahiri, a well-known voice of diasporic literature and very popular among the contemporary writers of world
Schools are burnt, houses torched
