Imprisoned Souls Poem by Md Fazlul karim

Now, the silence of Hemanta (autumn) whispers softly, saying, 'Go.'
I've been thinking, when winter comes, I'll come to you.
You love the cold, I am your summer.
Will winter ever come, Manvika?

Something about this isn't sitting right with me at all.
Like Kalidas's Meghaduta, immortality found its way here.
All around, there is only water, endless water.
The eastern clouds ask the northern clouds, 'When will you bring winter? '

All the conversations of truth will soon be scattered.
In this moment's silence, my heart stretches wide.
You laughed with the joy of a spring morning,
Is the rain increasing in preparation for
your arrival?

In a city of indifferent lovers,
At every door, a beggar knocks-
Each with separate hopes and restrained desires.

Imprisoned souls speak in the end!
The love that halts the rain is the enemy,
The lover who doesn't disregard the rain is a deceiver.