The Moon Of The Cormorant - Lai, Biswajit
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Myself Biswajit Lai. This is my first book to release. In this book I have compiled 71 poems. These poems are varieties in substance, for a long years I have written these. I imagined many things and put it in my poems with words. I wrote these poems for long years and collected my memories in these poems. These poems are woven from the dreams of many days and nights. Many memories are associated with each poem. The beautiful beauty of this nature seems to cast a spell on my eyes. So sometimes sitting on the stairs in the late afternoon, sometimes walking on the roof in the quiet evening, and…mehr

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Myself Biswajit Lai. This is my first book to release. In this book I have compiled 71 poems. These poems are varieties in substance, for a long years I have written these. I imagined many things and put it in my poems with words. I wrote these poems for long years and collected my memories in these poems. These poems are woven from the dreams of many days and nights. Many memories are associated with each poem. The beautiful beauty of this nature seems to cast a spell on my eyes. So sometimes sitting on the stairs in the late afternoon, sometimes walking on the roof in the quiet evening, and sometimes lying in the bosom of the night, looking at the many distant stars, I have let my imagination run wild. And I have captured those wonderful moments with some favorite words. We live on a small floating land in the middle of this universe. We do not understand it. It is beyond our comprehension. Yet, we have also witnessed such a wonderful event as the rising of the sun and moon every day. Yet, I live in the midst of this nature, in West Bengal, India, my beloved country on earth. And I am fascinated by the diversity of this eternally beautiful Bengal again and again. The six seasons that play in the heart of Bengal, this nature dresses up in a new way in every season. So I watch it with fascination. So many things come to mind. How many endless memories have been created. Everything will end one day. Yet this life flows. It has no end. In the language of poetry, the awakening of the precious sense of life from this universe - I have tried to write these with my own small knowledge. Here is some of them. You are like a deer, You have taken my heart away, You have left it somewhere In the depths of the forest; In the forest light, You have torn and eaten my heart, > Biswajit Lai Eyes wide open in dreams We who have grown up Have taken up pen or spade The house of mirrors is left behind >In my dreams I see the light of the lampshade The corpse of the leaf cutter Eternally asleep in the eyes of the beloved >How far has autumn gone The shade of the cedar has taken its chest Still on the steps of the school >Those melodies of beauty and serenity The Dahuk sitting on the branches of the Hijal surrounding the pond Dead today, they are dead on the path of time >The pictures that were in the Nakshi Kantha They are still lying unmoving Today, there is no sleep in my eyes >Uttarayan has passed through many transitions It has passed like the bend of a mountain In my life, yours, >New poetry, new pen, all those Hearts filled with emotion, those pages With seven hours of daily dreams >My myth, my jewelery Everywhere today, your coming and going Since that Chaitra afternoon, >That step-verse, first touching the heart Then the illness of a wilderness is like in my mind >I just want you to be well forever The school window has only given me a loophole, You are another tree, a bird, inaccessible, so today > Biswajit Lai
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