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	<title>Shuhrid Shahidullah - Prachya Review</title>
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	<title>Shuhrid Shahidullah - Prachya Review</title>
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		<title>Poem by Shuhrid Shahidullah</title>
		<link>https://prachyareview.com/2017/02/11/poem-by-shuhrid-shahidullah/</link>
					<comments>https://prachyareview.com/2017/02/11/poem-by-shuhrid-shahidullah/#respond</comments>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[admin]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Sat, 11 Feb 2017 18:17:16 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Shuhrid Shahidullah]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://www.prachyareview.com/?p=2180</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[<p>FLASHES. . . 1 In her eyes I see a fractured sky Mirroring the clouds of mine 2 Head off The shadow heading to his body Found himself in the headlines 3 Silent trees,silenter fruits Often ask each other name Through the silentest flowers 4 “Oh! It was you!” The mirror betrayed her Someone stepped [&#8230;]</p>
<p>The post <a href="https://prachyareview.com/2017/02/11/poem-by-shuhrid-shahidullah/">Poem by Shuhrid Shahidullah</a> first appeared on <a href="https://prachyareview.com">Prachya Review</a>.</p>]]></description>
										<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><strong>FLASHES. . .</strong></p>
<p><strong><em>1</em></strong></p>
<p>In her eyes<br />
I see a fractured sky<br />
Mirroring the clouds of mine<span id="more-2180"></span></p>
<p><strong><em>2</em></strong><br />
Head off<br />
The shadow heading to his body<br />
Found himself in the headlines</p>
<p><em><strong>3</strong></em><br />
Silent trees,silenter fruits<br />
Often ask each other name<br />
Through the silentest flowers</p>
<p><em><strong>4</strong></em></p>
<p>“Oh! It was you!”<br />
The mirror betrayed her<br />
Someone stepped out and confirmed her:<br />
“Yeah! It was you.”</p>
<p><em><strong>5</strong></em><br />
Mirror! Mirror!! Mirror!!!<br />
Horror! Horror!! Horror!!!<br />
The show is off for ever<br />
After a deadly scene!</p>
<p><em><strong>7</strong></em><br />
On a special discount<br />
The open market sells A Doll’s House<br />
She is still short of some ‘changes’</p>
<p><em><strong>8</strong></em><br />
Out of the story she became old:<br />
She had a little plot<br />
Still untold</p>
<p><em><strong>9</strong></em><br />
Making love</p>
<p>I found in her eyes<br />
a blind guy looking for his white stick lost with mine</p>
<p><em><strong>10</strong></em></p>
<p>In a living graffiti on the dark<br />
He found his head writing in bliss</p>
<p>The rest of the body Rests In Peace</p>
<p><strong><em>11</em></strong></p>
<p>On her shadow I kissed twice<br />
One for her deadly two eyes<br />
One for her for leaving me blind</p>
<p><em><strong>12</strong></em></p>
<p>On her body<br />
I painted my death<br />
She conceived it lively</p>
<p><em><strong>13</strong></em></p>
<p>Time flys<br />
On her lips<br />
A fly kisses to immortality</p>
<p><strong><em>14</em></strong></p>
<p>A midsummer tree praying for winter<br />
Leaves continue to fan her<br />
Until they fall on her feet</p>
<p><strong><em>15</em></strong></p>
<p>In the day of<br />
Exchanging mirrors<br />
You had hidden your face somewhere else</p>
<p><em><strong>16</strong></em></p>
<p>Summer goes spiral<br />
A facebooker posted it<br />
In her cool status</p>
<p><img fetchpriority="high" decoding="async" class="alignnone wp-image-2181 size-medium" src="https://prachyareview.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/02/0ac9e-15966756_1222480481166503_2140971517_o-1-300x200.jpg" alt="" width="300" height="200" srcset="https://prachyareview.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/02/0ac9e-15966756_1222480481166503_2140971517_o-1-300x200.jpg 300w, https://prachyareview.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/02/0ac9e-15966756_1222480481166503_2140971517_o-1-1024x683.jpg 1024w, https://prachyareview.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/02/0ac9e-15966756_1222480481166503_2140971517_o-1-768x512.jpg 768w, https://prachyareview.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/02/0ac9e-15966756_1222480481166503_2140971517_o-1-1536x1024.jpg 1536w, https://prachyareview.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/02/0ac9e-15966756_1222480481166503_2140971517_o-1.jpg 2048w" sizes="(max-width: 300px) 100vw, 300px" /><em><strong>Shuhrid Shahidullah</strong></em> started his poetic career in the new millennium with publication of his first book of poems from Kolkata, India. Until now he has five collections of poems to his credit. Though Bengali is his main language but he also writes in English. His poems have been published in French and German translation. Shuhrid translates regularly from the works of world literature. His major translation into Bengali is <em>Letters to A Young Poet</em> by Rainer Maria Rilke. Lately, he has translated and published a dossier on the ‘90s generation of Romanian poets along with other European contemporary poets. <em>Shirdanra</em> (Backbone), a little magazine he co-edits, has become an influential platform for the young and avant-garde writers in Bangladesh. Currently he is also engaged with <em>La Traductière, </em>a Paris-based literature magazine, as an Associate Editor.</p>
<p>His current poetic projects include translation of ‘<em>The House Made of Razor Blades’</em>, a poetry book by French poet Linda Maria Baros. The book won ‘Guillaume Apollinaire Prize’ in 2007. The book will be published in Bengali in Ekushe Books Fair 2017 in Dhaka, Bangladesh.</p><p>The post <a href="https://prachyareview.com/2017/02/11/poem-by-shuhrid-shahidullah/">Poem by Shuhrid Shahidullah</a> first appeared on <a href="https://prachyareview.com">Prachya Review</a>.</p>]]></content:encoded>
					
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