Επιμέλεια: Εύα Πετροπούλου Λιανού
Bio: Poet Alam Mahbub took birth in 31 October in 1962 at the deputy bari, Latur Poyar, upozella Gouripur, district of Mymensingh.
He earned the higher education Honours and Masters in Bengali language and literature in Mymensingh Ananda Mohan College. Now he is in a profession as a worker in a private business farm at Ishwarganj Filling Station of Mymensingh.
His published books are
1. Jao Preme Jao Biplobe (February 1990)
2. Ghar Dake Rajpath Dake (February 2018)
3. Amar Behala Jane (Ekushey Book Fair 2019)
4. Daki Jadi Shara Dio (February 21, 2022)
5. Ek Je Chilo Sonar Konnya (Novel — February 2017)
Occasionally he writes and translates poetry into English.
At The Confluence Of The Sea By Alam Mahbub
The modest flowers of the mist bloom in the cloudy sun
The night wakes up in the light of the lamp post
And the gray-clad dreams
The river dies of thirst
But the days are busy with the song of
Blind shadow
And at the end of the day,
The boy sees the clock of time
The path is also calling and flying fire eyes
In the pit of heavy rain moss also sweats
And silently sadness into the dark.
The red horse is at the bridge of the state
Jasmine in the eyes of hungry eagles
But curfew is written in morning.
The flapping wings call
The red gunpowder of poetry
Floats in the confluence of the sea. ###
I’m Not Well By Alam Mahbub
I told you that I’m fine as a courtesy
But actually, I’m not well at all.
Don’t you see the morning paper these days?
Don’t you see at night
What kind of fake moon light has filled the city?
Worms and worms in all roses,
All the spines are also modern weapons now
Human beings are get down to ruin human
As the mere animals in their roles.
And they brought the life of the world
In their hands also.
I told you that I’m fine as a courtesy
But actually, I’m not well at all.
I like to see the soft and silvery moon Between the leaves
But where is that moon
And I like to put the roses on your hairs
But where’s that the roses.
Silently just I watched that
Dressing up as zaminder
People have insulted the people
People have carried on their shoulders
The palanquins of big people.
How much more will I see the dirty face of crying poor people?
And tell me
How much will I see the pain and suffering of Poverty?
I told you that I’m fine as a courtesy
But actually, I’m not well at all
Was there even a talk that even if it’s a lie,
That I’m fine?
###
Antipole By Alam Mahbub
Oil does not mix with water
But what was the chemistry?
Even as the train approaches the station,
And it moves away again.
A figure for the average depth of water in the reservoir
There are no simple solutions in geometry.
Easel from where to start or where to end
The point of zero never crosses the line of mystery
A congrats to him though
Morning bread and butter away.
Assume that the sum of numbers starts from one
Volume does not hold value over time
So what is before or after one?
Can people fly with legs and wings to the far end?
###
Unity By Alam Mahbub
Taking dawn Shalvan was standing on the banks of the Brahmaputra
His lips were colored with hope
Opening the window,there’s the joy
And fragrance all around.
Shalbon was going to Habirbari
With the whistle of his heart.
The bleary eyes see
To the townifield elderly home
And the company of saints is lingers
In the light of the sequestered forest.
Shaking the deck bridge if one sings Bhairavi
I will go down against the mud with a helmet
You and I are a river in the wilderness
Where all shoulders will spread in a harmony.
###
Are you Well By Alam Mahbub
With a whistle, the train leaves the city
And goes to the distant mountains
Fractured suns break the dreams
And compose the stories of the mists of time.
All the houses stand alone
In the proximity of the thoroughfare
But the wind sings on the railway stones
Like a passionate kiss with a cup of hot tea.
Waiting on the other side of the door
The bright dawn calls, “Are you so well?”
###
Alam Mahbub
Ms Ishwarganj Filling Station
Ishwarganj, Mymensingha – 2280
Bangladesh.
