June 20, 2013 | 04:37 PM (BD Time)
20 June, 2013 Thursday
No polls until doomsday if caretaker comes: PM ; SC appoints 2 amici curiae for Quader Mollah appeal hearing ; 3 robbers killed in Sunderbans ; India floods strand thousands: more than 100 dead ; 8 killed in lightning strikes in C'nawabganj ; RMG factory catches fire in city ; Obama in berlin calls for US-Russia nuclear weapons cuts; 18-party to stage demo countrywide on June 22 ; Scenarios for Snowden: Escape, arrest, asylum
Anthem for doomed youth
What passing-bells for these who die as cattle?
Only the monstrous anger of the guns.
Only the stuttering rifles' rapid rattle
Can patter out their hasty orisons.
No mockeries for them from prayers or bells,
Nor any voice of mourning save the choirs,
The shrill, demented choirs of wailing shells;
And bugles calling for them from sad shires.
What candles may be held to speed them all?
Not in the hands of boys, but in their eyes
Shall shine the holy glimmers of good-byes.
The pallor of girls' brows shall be their pall ;
Their flowers the tenderness of silent minds,
And each slow dusk a drawing-down of blinds.
Among the stars this evening
Dr Muhammed Idris Bhuiyan
My brain, the maker of words
visual artist of perception, proclaimed:
Who am I to question the throbbing heart
its mysterious dealings ? Seriously.
Sunflowers wild dance in breeze
silence of dark night
Singsong of mountains
resounding of flute.
Bliss of meditation
melancholy shadow of thoughts
Sleepy eyes of child
warmth of an embrace.
Loving for one who never is
to be one with self.
My heart and I both today matured,
Love is the madness of feeling delight
like a gentle breeze.
Twining the vines of a soul
with fragrance of flower clusters
of wild rose,
To love -is to love softly,
wild and awkward.
Never to be complete, never once
Death is love but I ?
Blue sky seemed bluer
manicured flowerbeds seemed
more colours than usual.
If I could save time in bottle…
if I had a box for wishes and dreams
that had never come true
The box would be empty
except for the memory
how it was answered by you
but there never seems to be enough time.
To do the things you want to do
once you find them
Love should not be
an accidental after thought.
Did you enjoy the journey
among the stars this evening ?
Indeed , it is not the heart
but my analytical mind,
albeit the brain's circuits,
that interpret what I selectively choose,
as pleasure and weeds out hurt
mixing and matching images and words,
finally creating for me a coherent whole---
as meaningful script.
As my brain contrives explanation.
so changes my mind.
Such was the premises when I extracted
the abstract reasoning about love.
(Dr.Idris teaches Business Laws at City University, Banani, Dhaka)
From the undying realm comes this utterance, folks
Numbered are your quickly dissipating days.
Bells have tolled the hour of your departure.
Many years ago, on this earth-
Green and grassy and soft, sprang forth life
Once full of grains and fruits and flowers all over,
Now lies shattered-ruined by a monstrous biped.
Soon will you hear the claps of thunder,
The terrifying hiss from the horns of Israfil;
A tumult to burst the seas and skies,
The stars to split asunder like popcorn.
The earth will abort all her treasures from her bowels
Lofty hills will flow through the air like cotton whiffs,
Shattered and shattered again, this earth will fall
Down to a heap of dust.
Children of Adam, have you not warned afore?
Hadn't Abraham told you of the undying realm?
Hadn't Jesus, Moses and the last Messenger?
Hadn't the sages and poets shown you how
You could build heaven on the dusts of the earth?
Deaf were your ears to the eternal voice
As you heaped your montane sins on pristine earth.
Protect you did not women's dignity, trades you did
Like ordinary goods of the market for flesh;
Feeding wines and meat to the bodies,
Naught were your quest for the soul.
(Translation: Dr. Osman Gani)
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