A Summer Night Silence


Sitting by the window, looking at street white halogened color.

The day is old & sleeping, in few hours it’ll be young again.

I want to sing a song like baul, like sufi saint, like an ustad

I want to play violin or flute or sarangi in tune of homecoming.

The silence, that flow through the nocturnal breeze,

(I) Want to decorate it with the tune that’ll be compose


The night is moving to blue; the moon lighting the darkest corners.

The building at distance shining with lights–

So many stories, chapters there.


I want to return home; I want to sing a song for this

But, return is easy in saying not in thoughts or actions.

(So) I wade myself in this isolated darkness–swim I never like.


As the crow caws in sleep, as fan swing in speed

As the diary flap in starvation–she want writing

I know I’ve to be moving on with failure & success on my back in big sack

Like the runner postman from ancient days…



29 responses to “A Summer Night Silence”

  1. This is so beautiful. For a moment I was lost. And the picture β™‘

    Liked by 1 person

    1. My pleasure…😊

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Bhalo lagloπŸ‘ŒπŸ»

    Like

    1. Eta Kolkata seriesr arkta…ektu alada…

      Liked by 1 person

      1. πŸ‘ŒπŸ»πŸ‘ŒπŸ» khub bhalo hoeche

        Like

  3. Wonderful poem! I love the variations through which each verse travels!

    Like

    1. Thanks Vandana for the appreciation…☺

      Liked by 1 person

  4. love the mood of this one very Tagore πŸ™‚

    Like

    1. It is a huge compliment…by the way are you Bengali?

      Liked by 1 person

      1. I’m not but how can one resist Tagore

        Like

        1. It is pleasure to know this…am though not a big time admirer of him…

          Liked by 1 person

          1. I read the Postmaster and have been hooked ever since πŸ™‚

            Like

            1. Wow…that’s great…read more of him…

              Liked by 1 person

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