Two poems of Anindita Mitra

Downpour and Fantastical Chat

Miraculous blue hue of fantasies merges deep into the
essence of every woman’s heart, sharp lines of longing
dangle enigmatically with doubts of dying. Incessant
stream of loneliness descends through crevices,
oblivious tunes of jhumur songs vibrate through
verdant wings of yellow legged green pigeons.
Countless faces reflect in mirror called life, petals of
jarul flowers shed and hide thousands of memories
behind shower of rain. Your hand still wet with
dewdrops touches every inner string of tanpura my
heart is. At least be my second self in that wonderworld
while being far away.

[Translated by Satyabrata Ghosh]

Unspoken Wreath of Love

Every unrevealed dot in strokes of bluish cave painting
I adorn in my aubade. A primal man had shed cascade
of love on the lips of his woman, her fathomless body
then became fragrant with intense scent of musk, he
then painted telling pictures on the broad shadowy
canvas of her bosom. At the turning towards the
source of the veiled wrinkles of tears have drawn
unsaid branching lines, and piercing the foggy womb
of wild ivy emerges abstract painting in chiaroscuro. In
the dewy bed of forest lies tepid love, the bloodied
spearhead cries for dead animal struck by it. I strike my
head again and again before magic wordless writings,
and leave several question marks amid the alphabets in
my heart.

[Translated by Satyabrata Ghosh]

About the translator
Satyabrata Ghosh is a translator. He is also a screenwriter and filmmaker. He has worked as assistant and senior editor at two daily newspapers.
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