Zombie

Pishach, in my right hand i hold a sword
in my left, your Paishach world
Your ghosts are mine,
Your children are mine,
And just, in a dim night, a hut burning by a river,
Foxes barking by Bhula-Masan-marshes – with marshlights
of Maya, of the mist, and of all zero-sum history –
Voices lost in mirages,
in sad fortresses, broken,
like people are broken by guns and tanks,
broken like this while,
sad like this shadow of yours i drag
and this shadow of mine you drag
Pishach, take me where your corpses burn
that i may burn with the corpse of the world,
with the corpses of all sad deaths of the world.

Macaulay & Shantideva:

M: it's gray
S: gray is lucid
M: it's a complex framework
S: made of simple stuff

king comes king goes

translated 'Raja Ashey Jaaye' (King Comes & Goes) - iconic Bangla poem by Birendra Chattopadhyay (1920-1985), not to be confused with early Communist revolutionary Virendranath Chattopadhyay (1880-1937).

king comes

king goes

king changes

blue robes

red robes

this king comes

that king goes

colours change

days don't

that naked kid dreams to gulp the world down

fights with dogs for rice

shall keep fighting

fire lit in belly

burning

shall burn

kings come and go

dresses change colours

masks change faces

that crazy guy from tagore's books

claps

from this street to that

sings and dances:

'everything's false

everything's a lie'

motherland

sees all

is blind

knows all

is deaf

your naked child

is that crazy guy

snatches rice from dogs

claps at starving dogs

they don't change

you won't change

dresses change colours

dresses change styles

moon-ferrari

all over your pit of sky
where we live where we die
where we laugh where we cry
moon-ferrari wheezes by
moon-ferrari wheezes by!