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Drunken cries of drunkenness
    Mohammad Zahid Hossain

Drinking a bit of excess water, my friend Bablu is talking about all the mourning.
In his drunken eyes, Bablu looks at the fairytale witch in love.
However, if I drink bitter water, it would not be unreasonable to lose the rhythm like Bablu.
Rather, I became a lover – an oblivious lover.
At that time I see you.
I see my happiness in you.
Wishing you all the words,
I praise you – I beg you –
You are beautiful
You are beautiful
You are beautiful
Talk darling Speak up Laugh! Smile a little How long do I see your smiling face?
This is not your smiling face in another ear!
This will not make your smiling face burst into tears!
He is lovely Speak up Laugh. Smile a little
A little
A little
A little …
“- A long time ago, these old drunken sentences of the old diary came into view.
The words in the diary are witnessed on a drunken night in the body of our diary.
Then the holiday in the New Year.
On the way to the village of Bangla, the new Amaz, the worship of the old and the worship of the new one.
Even if you didn’t find much,
On my New Year’s day I did not see you.
Embarrassed, you get angry.
With such a hoot, a boyfriend appeared at the door of his lover!
What do people think of home ?!
But there was talk that you would come to the fair at Nandanpur that day.
I will also come with Bablu – at the Nandanpur fair.
Then together we will watch the fair, turn around, chat.
But you didn’t come!
The source of your drunken night or drunken sentences is the source of your not coming.
Ha ha ha
Dear mother, I know the relationship breaks,
The broken rope ties you to the ropes.
You’re a motherfucker now!
There is a garden in your yard, safely in the garden …
You know dear,
I still sit in meditation after swallowing a bit of bitterness
You stay in my meditation
I have clouds in my meditation
In my meditation there is hypnotism
In meditation I wish to write you in harmony with the words
Wishes to write to the cloud
Intends to write to Hamanti
I write,
Don’t write again!
You, the cloud, and the hamanti are like the pressing tears of my drunkenness.

Writing style: prose poem
Date of writing: 12-5-20
Post Date: 1-5-20
All rights reserved by the author

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