Edina-7 Poem by shuvo chakraborty

If you can not tame the pàssion, withold at least,
Since it is not clear looking like your nonchalant being.
The immediate passage for free flowing, being choked with winter falling of selfish leaves,
And knowing not its meandering and speculated ends,
Nor how deep to contain these heart rending crazes of liquid spelling.
Here no fishes seem ever swim, nor any watery insects had spontaneous playing,
Nor ever having taste of rainy season.
The place is dry too and desert looking,
Forsaken by kingfishers and other birds in wings,
Unfit for displaying all your jwellery for none.
Better to hide them with closing white hands to sole self
Before wearing the first painted blush upon the curious face.
Let this simple night be ceased till the church bell tolling dawn,
Let your folded wings bid the first flight much before the birds,
Affording mine self to give you an uneasy send off with blurred vision.
May your asking eyes seek another appointment, another long meeting,
To blossom these passion under the comforting dews and friendly moon,
If we unable again to find a drenched place and swelling passage,
Which is not so unusual and unnatural to court my refusal.
What wrong if these flowers be looking so living in a bustling garden
Wherefrom others can read the babble of fasting words of your mind unspoken
And share them in their closet like the new found gems of paradise.
Thanks our luck for affording us to find a suitable alternative
Letting out these clogged temptations, if witheld long may invite germs
To spoil a well lingering story in to sewarage,
That might find not passage safe for free flowing.