Probir Gupta Poet Rhyme

As the Scenes Change

If I can not hold the bird 
It's prudent to let it accompany the kite
When the hues take a distant flight
Won't it be a fun with black and white 

Desires to become, we do have a lot of 
Dense grass, blue sky, three kingfishers 
The river, we have got, never looks back 
Nevertheless, I smile in your mirror 

Notebook and red pens beckoning us 
Olive branches call at the window 
At midnight, the moon gathers the guts 
to creep slowly toward my pillows 

While observing the pictures, 
I fill many a pitcher 
Drinking the embroidered water, 
I become richer

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