THE BEAR

No poet, an introvert silent bear he is,
sitting in the cage with century's fever.
The visitors scatter peas, sometimes nuts
and burning cigar-butts as a big fun.
Hairs burn, pungent smell, sensations in the wind!
Unhappy men like to see others unhappy.
People whistle, clap, pour filthy words, this time
and this society learn to know each and every disease.
Will he go back to the jungle? There too, a man has climbed
up to the tree, leaving another back, for own safety.
'What does the bear say? ' asks he climbing down.
'Whom you leave alone is another separate face of you.'

transcreated from bengali original by rudra kinshuk