Poems by- Mridha Alauddin

Poems by- Mridha Alauddin

Poems by-
Mridha Alauddin

Translation: Sayeed Abubakar

I Play the Flute

Only the good work I can do is-
I go to the meadow carrying my cattle
And play the flute.

No one I Have

All are going on their own ways
From the east to the west
Crossing the beach of the horizon
In the sun.

No one I have.
I am alone in this melancholic dusk.
A long dark night stretches
Surrounding me.

All My Faults

I go to the river’s bank,
Watch the waves,
Play the flute,
Climb into the boat
Or roam in the woodpath.
Whatever I do,
People laugh at me.


I got wounded
Going to fly the kite
In the sun.
Some blood spurted out of the wound.

Now I notice the stain of a dagger
Into my heart.


Your bare body,
Well-shaped rich breast,
Soft and puffy cheek
And the perfume of musk on your hair
Didn’t let me sleep at night.
Fire is in my whole body
And I’m overwhelmed with passion.

I have been homeless to get a home.

You’ve become a river River

(Translated by-Siddique Mahmud)

washes everyone Takes him to Himachal
To unknown, infamous immense horizon
River offers merciful life to the dead
It is merciful to the dumb
Effortless, in the six treasures of the evening
In fluent and beautiful language.

The river made me cry again and again
Deprived me of immense treasure
From the open market of love and salt;
This body explodes in abstract chemistry

I cried in the rain at night
Become a pyramid or Taj Mahal
As if the mountain of misery melted and the fire blazed.

I remember you when
I see the river
Upstream tumultuous darkness
You’ve turned into a river …

The Last Kiss

Come, let’s go togather
To wilderness, on the open street
Leaving te tornado and typhoon
Under the joyful sunshine.

Let’s go and rest togather
In the nest of night and in the hall of celebration
On the sand dunes
While sleeping
lets hear the padabali of the neighbors
Or let’s go togather Kama-kala of Vaishnavism
Cartridges, leave carnival On the street In the sun …

Let’s kiss In hand
Navel-buttocks Not at the base of the navel

This love of kissing or the great war is more than reunion
Tell me what else can be expensive in the world?
Let’s go to the work of Vaishnavism Cartridge
Carnival: Neighbors leave words
On the street In the sun …

In your beauty

You look great
When you are in kurta and kameez
Sari-churi-orna Keep flying Keep walking
on the windy rural path
By the river : far and wide on the horizon
At dusk In the darkness of light …

It makes me shiver Your sari-bangles
long black Rain-soaked river and buttocks
Your sweet body I scream in the middle of the night
When I see the neon light You’re walking in a night gown
You’re playing
Laughing Going away
From road to road –
In the sun.
When I see that you are unadorned
The cup is in the hands of the pub
In the spring garden or by the sea
I became silent, speechless
Your armpits
your waist
Cloudy black long hair
Apple-shaped curvy soft-bosom
Thighs and nipples
Seeing the mountains of your beauty
I was stunned I fell head over heels
In the rain On the street.

When I see you in kurta-kameez
Sari-bangle Keep flying in the veil
Keep flying
Keep flying …