Poems of Sushanta Halder

If You Do Not Love Me

If you do not love me,
it’s no loss.
Your love burns as incense
in the marrow of my nerve-laced bones.

Seeing has turned darker than not seeing—
this aching heart now floats
like a rain-soaked cloud
in the middle of Ashwin.

I’ve heard,
Nivedita came to Bahadurgarh
draped in feathers,
but left for Radhakrishnapur
after witnessing a storm that broke the branches.

By the time I knew,
the delta near the coast
was already drowning in monsoon tides.
In grievance and wounded pride,
I set sail on a cyclone-dance across Mandas.

Yet this fugitive heart
still seeks direction
in that southwestern corner
where darkness thickens
and people call it “death.”

If you do not love me,
it’s no loss.
My love is stored
in the mist-laced waters of Kartik,
where clumps of grass cling to the soil —
and my grave becomes
Jibanananda’s bridal chamber.

Death is final
‎
‎I never thought I would get this much
‎In the clear water of the crow, that old Roman Empire
‎The sky, the pair of stars, the spectacular Halley’s Comet of the night
‎Minerva, the infertile Augustine of the passionate night in the clear water
‎
‎On your thoughtful days, the white-buck flies away, voluntary death
‎I had written on my feather wings ‘Death is final’ in the sins of this life
‎In the coal mine burned by love
‎If I get the Aphrodite of love and go to the earth to kiss her
‎Look how fierce the Boishakh storm is in the Brutusian hemisphere
‎I didn’t think I would get this much

I will see heaven and earth and the underworld in Odin’s eyes
‎If I die, I will be burdened with a corpse on the couch of ‘Valhalla’
‎Then Jupiter will be overwhelmed with emotion, by the self-absorbed ‘Narcissus’ in death!

About Translator: Farzana Naz Shampa is a writer, journalist, and literary translator, currently living in British Columbia, Canada.

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