The Flower Garden
Niloy Rafiq
The moonlit clouds fill the room, night-blooming flowers meditate in thought.
The glass window left ajar, hair untamed in carefree whispers.
The red ribbon on the mountain’s breast draws the gaze of secret eyes,
I linger by the fruit-laden trees, weaving beauty in nets of sound.
Niloy Rafiq
The moonlit clouds fill the room, night-blooming flowers meditate in thought.
The glass window left ajar, hair untamed in carefree whispers.
The red ribbon on the mountain’s breast draws the gaze of secret eyes,
I linger by the fruit-laden trees, weaving beauty in nets of sound.
On the heart’s wall, by the chamber of words, a glimmer of peace appears.
Birds call from the wheeled chariot, as twilight caresses the city’s sandy bays.
Days flow in ease and indulgence, the tide of youth in full-moon glow,
Waves ripple softly; casuarina leaves ache for the rhythm of each day.
Words etched on pages, a sweet smile within,
Yet courage falters to speak, as a new year arrives in shy glances.
Birthdays adorned with artistic celebrations of festivity,
Eyes meeting in verses of union, poetry shaped by melodic rhythm.
A storm’s unknown fury whirls through the garden, leaves plotting their craft,
The whip of art leaves its mark, as manuscripts hide in the streets' shadows.
Translator:Nurul Hoque
