Poems and poets sound so wonderful, so promising, and so satisfying that we work so hard to be one. But the bitter truth is, some are born poets and some try to be poets, but either way, poetry only makes a poet miserable, and this is it. Writing poems or creative thinking keeps us busy. Therefore, to be happy, we need to earn money as we cannot eat poems.
Poets love nature and I have noticed that when they are emotional they express themselves in the same language, and that is poetic.
কবিরা প্রাকৃতিকে ভালোবাসে এবং আমি লক্ষ্য করেছি যে তারা যখন আবেগী হয় তখন তারা একই ভাষায় নিজেকে প্রকাশ করে, এবং তা হলো কাব্যিক।
I know I won’t succeed,
But I can say with confidence I will fail.
I do not know the news of heaven or hell,
Will have to wait to know.
Truly I do startle,
How do I meet the truth after death?
I can’t sit still with my eyes closed,
Matter of fact I am frightened and realistic.
There is no security despite knowing who is who,
So better be alone than being in the wrong crowd!
Then the reader said, I want to read your mind. I want to read about your desire. I want to read about your past. I want to read what is written on the inner walls of your heart. I tried to smile and said, I have written prose verses and novels with what you want to read. And that is to radically change the society and make it equal for all. The reader shook his head and said, these are impossible.
Humanity is now dying due to a lack of food and medicine,
The bread is being sold at a high price, butter is now poisonous,
Thirsty need to walk a few miles for drinking water,
The rich are only getting richer and we poor are suffering to die.
