Humayun Kabir

Insipid Without Love

The memory of your body burns like a concealed

                                                                               taper,

I’m quite and tranquil in a well-lit temple, as it were,

quite like a bird after the drought’s over.

Trembling in a garden,

You’re a flower with a flushed face,

Forget your coyness, lady

Look, a hidden lamp burns within.

Burn me,

enkindle the pure flames of flowers.

Look the shadowy clouds descend,

the gloomy evening darkness gathers,

houses stand still and birds fly across

with the sound of Mridanga.

Lower your face lady,

come in my arms ;

Insipid are the scenes of the world

without love.

                              Translated by M. Harunur Rashid

Humayun Kabir (1945—1972)

Poet. Poetry : Kusumita Ispat (1972).