The New Nation - Internet Edition

O strange lovely boy

Nazrul Islam Khan

Manna, O Manna! You could bring surge of love

Through compassion in common means' heart,

For commoners' cause as a triumph of art;

Of which curiosity blocked rail lines, avenues

And collapsed the function of FDC, seen and heard!

Manna, O Manna! You could create confluence of

Social standards in your own style and arts,

Many like 'Ammajan', Conquering destitute hearts,

By achieving excellence of a courageous prince

For a far-making society of fairness and justice!

Now, you have summarily concluded life to incarnate

The stars into nebula in the world of heavenly joys,

And take rest by the side of your father,

Once a glamorous player, Sana Bhai, I remember!

O lovely boy! you are strange and beautiful,

Whom I had seen in the golden boyhood!

Bengal Tigers

Mohammad Shahidul Islam

Tigers trigger extinction

From forest and field

Anesthesia and radio-collaring

Around gloves, hands, bowls and necks

Siddons and Sidr are not the same source

of falling wickets of lives

Tigers need what:

Green jungle or lockup for loosing biodiversity

or being fool with research or Ashraful!

Nowadays I am

I can't weep nowadays

Cann't remove the big stone

From my chest at all stays.

Like the swatch of no ground

My minds cry-rotating around

Like the eddy-turbulence deeper

Mighty Padma-Meghna-Dakatia river.

Sometimes some huge attraction

Revolving me like destruction.

Like the spring low water ebbing

Can't cry at the death of relatives

Only rotating within my duties.

My wahed brother expired today

Theyself weeping in the frost of Sundarban

Having so much blessing of Almighty

How much could sacrifice for duty.

Recently I am being helpless

Gradually my environment attaching

No peace-no where

Life struggle going on there

Will go on ever.

Mind's picture

All the rare pictures focuses on

In the mind's eye of mine gone.

That picture thy searched for

From the beginning to date or

By the camera telescope and binocular

For long time in many ways also

Sonar

In the squint eyes of sextant

In the daylight of sun tent

In the warm fine stars of night

And the pole star so bright.

On the volcano's high fire

Also in the dark bright tyre.

The picture which thy searching

At the highest force of dying

That picture is focused in the

Mind's eye of thy camera lee.

Automatic sextant angle of

V (victory)

With the heavenly blessing of Thee.

That is my life-liking question

Which has given me the solution.

Emdadul Haque Badsha

Grandmother

Ali Inan

Sitting down,

In a rocking chair

Beside the fire place.

Fire crackles,

A warm,

Toasty,

And cozy place

To sit by,

And relax.

My grandmother,

Is reading there.

A book in her hands.

Her heavy glasses

Drooping down.

Her hands slowly turning,

The page.

Still reading,

Sometimes squinting her eyes,

To focus on,

The miniscule text.

Her skin is soft,

And wrinkled,

But filled

With love.

Ali Iman, aged 10, is a student in a city School