Poesia con sabor Exotico

Nos llega desde el distante bello y sufrido Bangldesh 3 hermosas poesias en Ingles

del joven Poeta Sabyasachi Nazrul

AQUI SU BIOGRAFIA

Biography:

Poet SABYASACHI NAZRUL is born on 5 May 1988 in Shariatpur district of Bangladesh to an aristocratic Muslim family. He was fond of literature and started writing poems, rhymes, stories when 10 years age. He has 17th joints books, and two own books one is " Sapna Uran" another is manuscripts award winning "Eakti Tarjonir Isara" and editing a literary magazine 'kirtinashar kirti', He received many awards. His works have been published National newspapers, Literary journals, Magazines of Bangladesh and also published in various literary journals, magazines in India, West Bengal, UK, USA, Italy, Egypt, China, Sapin, Greach, Tunisia, Trinidad and Tobago, Uzbekistan, Pakistan, Serbia, Croatia, Nepal, Middle East, Colombia, Kosta Rika, South Africa, Nijera, Singapore,Argentinian, Canada. His works have been translated into English,French,Albanians,Italian,Nepalese,Indian,Colombian,Croatian,Spanish, Arabic. Government employee the Author is the president of SMC, Mosura govt Primary School, Founder President of Sapno Uran international Literature and Cultural Parishad, Ambassador and member to several international literary organisations.

---

Monumento nacional de los mártires. monumento conmemorativo de la guerra de liberación de bangladesh en savar cerca de dhaka

---

I do not want war, I want peace Sabyasachi Nazrul

Missile, the body of my mother brother sister wounded by bullets, They has fallen in the lap of death. They are lying frozen in the Street! I am crying, my father is also crying profusely, Father took me on his arms, On sides running like crazy Looking for safe shelter.

There are hundreds of hundreds of corpse in the drains, drainage, sewers, crowded all around. Thousands of millions of lives want to live! I am thirsty for water, dad running out me running fast, But there is not a drop of water anywhere; Nowhere is there so much food, Helpless groaning father!

Decorated cities, our homes, garden, my books, toys have been reduced rubble. On all sides is engulfed in the dusty wash, Trembling all around with the blows of the mortal bullets.

Night and day, there is no light anywhere, The darkness is darkness. Water, Electricity, Gas, TV, Telephone stations are on the verge of destruction. Roads, rivers of blood flow in the sewerage line..

My raw mind says.. I do not want war, I want peace, peace and peace. We want peace, peace and peace! We want to live in peace and love for each others.

---

spring festival, bangladesh | Dhaka bangladesh

It’s a Festival games Sabyasachi Nazrul

The dew on the grass frozen in the icy air In the daytime sky in the name of darkness at the end of twilight.

At end of the night, the bee touches white fog of morning, Swinging in cold air is dream hope of the mind.

In the glittering sun, the bee is in nothers love The guest bird's will return hoping to return.

The murmur of direct leaves on the arrival of new leaves, Everyone got drunk on forest, food and flowered in the forest.

In the house of a Bengali there is fair of juice, cakes with date molasses. Thirteen festivals in twelve months look at the Festivals game.

---

mujer joven de Bangladesh. El retrato original (foto) en la que se basa la obra es de la fotógrafa bangladesí Mou Aysha. Destacan en el cuadro esos ojos que alumbran como faros, ese pañuelo de color fucsia y esa textura tan marcada en el rostro con la que he pretendido mostrar el sufrimiento existente bajo una apariencia perfecta. Belleza y dureza al mismo tiempo. Y no, no es la chica portada del National Geographic. Aquella era afgana, aunque esos ojos sí que se parecen.

---

Woman Sabyasachi Nazrul

Walking barefoot to the far end on the present monpura island. Woman, you are great, You are victorious.

In the new moon fasting I am sitting in the lamp of soft lighting, Waiting for your coming ;

You will win with a wreath I am full of kisses and hugs, Goes to white clothes ;

I am still without you the empty heart is empty, Swing like a swinging pendulum The pain continues to growl..

O woman, you still do not understand me Why is it so stupid to stay after a long unknown.

O woman, you are not alone You are free for flying in the sky. Woman, you are win, you are win. You are victorious...