Long Bangla Poems
Long Bangla Poems. Below are the most popular long Bangla by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Bangla poems by poem length and keyword.
The broken mind
In the gorge, near the river that died five years ago
ago and is a pale scar running from the inland mountains
and down to the coast,
unheard words of lovers come here to die;
“I love you,”” Come back to me,” “I can’t live
without you.”
Whispers in the breeze for no one’s ears but
The intrepid who comes here to conquer his own fear of love.
It is easy to get lost here; the trees are unfriendly
have thorns and branches snap
When you try to climb to see where you are,
and wild beasts follow, waiting for you to succumb,
fall asleep so they can eat your brain
leave you confused, and rescuers will say:
“Poor man has got Alzheimer's.”
The stillness hears fearful screams, the unheard
Last effort before sinking into silence
I was hoping for a sleep, deep and undisturbed.
A thing I longed for quite a bit of time, solid-hearted.
I was longing for your smell, your touch and your gentle tone
Your cloths had a softer touch, a subtle moment , yet undone.
My little girl was painting on a poster board, she was painting with brush
She was drawing window curtains, she was drawing a night sky
And she was drawing a book…
I realized that the book was entitled “The lost watch.”
She puzzled me about a life yesterday,
That still left me pondering, disturbing my long aspiring sleep
I am waiting now, as the eastern sky will have an eternal lamp to shine on.
Sometimes it is only you that is enough to hold on the thread.
More than anything, anymore.
The self-harm
Sometimes, I think I live inside the head of an ogre
whatever happens, none of us are in control, but
of a malign monster with brain cancer
Millenniums ago, when the brain was vigorous
it caught a microorganism of the type that can hide
a long time before branching out powerfully trying
to take over by altering the brain's chemistry.
Over time, the foreign body has tried to destroy it.
The cohesion that makes a brain function almost
to perfection; alas, as is with Beau's ideal, one time or another fails but can be repaired, and peace ensues.
There was a time when the monster cell was nearly
defeated but was saved by lesser pests
thinking its
cunning could be useful so it could grow alongside
The bacterium grew immensely strong and has begun threatening and altering the normal function
of the mental capacity of an encephalitic existence
the world might collapse, and a dead planet will circle the galaxy because we now know
the monster cell's purpose was to destroy god's
failures.
I thought you're just a part of a dream
That could be merely seen
With the appearance that was dim
Just brought my heart with a sorrow that was keen
But when I wake up one fine day
I find myself beside the bay
Imagining the man I see when I sleep
My mind dictates that there is to keep
He is not a part of Greek Mythology
Nor a fairy tale could be
He is a real sailor
Sailing across the border less sea
I wonder not,how Aphrodite
Save her beloved thee
Or Medea have made everything
For Jason whom she covets
Oh Poseidon,God of the sea
Take my sailor away from the peril you can see
Drive him to my heart safely
As he is cruising the world made by our Almighty
Spiros, you've brought
The different sinews in me
And that we meet
By the kingdom of the sea.
Leaders are worshiped,
Armies are much hailed,
Weapons are much praised,
And innocent creatures are,
Killed in the streets, in the
Homes, while they are working,
While they are sleeping,
The children's heart full of,
Terror, they are told, we are,
Worrier, we win the war,
But who tell the preacher,
Wars cant not be won, and
No way, they can be win,
Both side loose, both side
Destroyed, citizen are killed,
Here and citizen are killed,
There, Winners are those,
Who don’t care, for those,
Their whim must be roar,
Over the dead bodies of,
Innocents, the trees, the birds,
The air, the water, the animals,
The leaders never die in war,
They have power supernatural,
As a common man is taught,
To remain faithful to system,
To praise the ways of system,
To speak up to limits of system,
To praise the armies, to bow to
Money hoarders.
But all are the gestures inherited
Desire of creatures to destroy
Themselves,
Humanity seems tired of living,
Perhaps plans for departing,
And submerge in nothingness,
And arose whence Tagoreweb nature 154
And arose whence
Up she goes and arose whence a misfit
My thyme rosemary and my bay leaf delight leaves a pulpit
A patsy outskirt arose a pinnacle up to zenith sky underneath Bethlehem
A fanciful misfit hue staid in outspoken twilight until alone Eden sank in grief grieving for a leaf
A fanciful Myst of a song soared along the flight of a mundane delight upon a cosmos and a white lily
A sunlit raisin croon and the flight of the song a spell along , o'er the mundane and the cosmic hymn
Up she goes!
And arose whence a soul kindled a verse and the fanciful basilica temple as kismet wills on in wilmette and in jolene!
Ingratitude
Tagoreweb
Raga : Behug- Keertan
Taal: Dadra
Composition time (Bangla) : 1328
Composition(After Christ) : 1921
Composition place : Shantiniketan
Copyright © Tamanna Ferdous | Year Posted 2026
www.tagoreweb.in/Songs/prakriti-236
In your joyful time
you would remember,
I sang for you all,
when the wilted leaves began to fall.
In the barren forest,
reposing abandoned on dry grass,
I sang for you all,
when the wilted leaves began to fall.
In your day-time journey
you would remember,
I traveled in the night
with the lamp of twilight.
I heard the other side of the river call me,
sailing on the broken boat,
I sang for you all,
when the wilted leaves began to fall.
(This is the translation of Rabindranath Tagore's untitled Bengali lyric No. 18 in section "Prem" (Love) in "Geetabitan".)
__________________________
November 21, 2021
Contest : Inspired By A Translation
Sponsor : Malabika Ray Choudhury
Goalkeeper
When there is a football match on TV, I switch it on
In the last ten minutes of the match, my boredom threshold
Is low and to sit there watching the game for ninety minutes, really!
I used to play football as a boy, a goalkeeper of all things, then
I grew up and chased girls instead, which was often painful
Like accidentally falling in love, that happened frequently.
Falling in love is painful, walking into walls, and being nice
To children related to the object of my adoration
Then the pain of being rejected led to long walks and dark thoughts
Under a night sky, bittersweet flagellation, why did she leave me?
This too ended now, I`m a goalkeeper again, defend the goal, and try
To save the ball kicking my way
The rumor spread that the deceased was dispatched, a reason,
to the morgue
Last night, the dark spring and the dense night
Whence the moon of the eve, sank beyond sight
The mayhem arose with a wishful death, verily his own, to disown.
The bride was sleeping beside-the newborn too.
There was love, aspiration, moonlight - yet perception revealed
A shapeshifter bogus boo, who? Why was the sleepy one then, awakened?
Or, sleepless time, did not tame, so long for so long! the morgue would for the deceased!
Aspiration declared this say, this sleep!
With a bloody face and the mouse of the plague, drafter time
Took her lap in the darkest night, the sleep, this time
Never to feel awakened again!
1:37 PM
9-3-2024
Favourite Novelists
Of all the American writers I knew of
some favourites remain, like Theodore Dreiser.
John Dos Passos, John Steinbeck and
Ernest Hemingway. I mentioning him the last,
although I admired his writing, still does
immensely, he was a master, like Dos Passos,
in short sentences, but I disliked his theme
often about hunting and shooting, personally
I think he was a big softy never killed
A thing in his life. These days if I read a novel
I rarely do – lack of patience- I prefer
the way John Steinbeck wrote.
I`m thinking of writers using the English
language, I find some English writer like
Martin Amis practically unreadable as he
appears to need to impress
readers with his erudition; in all should know I sit
down and read I would prefer an American
novelist