In our cities, the houses are too close!
In our cities, from each other
The people live so apart that
My mother has always failed to be a city-dweller.
She still uses cow-dung to cleanse her yard.
After every prayer, she looks after the cattle;
And for all the creepers in her yard,
She ardently cares.
Though hundred miles away, I can see her clear,
Her every piece of work.
Like an attentive assistant to the driver of
A public bus in crowd,
From this immense distance, my ears can easily hear
Her voice and each of her words towards me.
When I envision my mother as a girl,
Even long before her first menstruation,
She appears in a late-autumn evening
Drenched with lemon-flower.
She is as naked as my life
Because we can be nothing but
Two blind fireflies of the same age.
Mother, when you disclose your dresses
Your whole body turns into a glass.
I notice only myself Looking at the glass that time.
Yet a particular part of our body means a lot!
But when I concentrate on pursuing poems
Or imagining the aesthetic nature of my mother
I forget that particular part.
Why the modern people never think that
Before coming the dresses-Mother and their children lived in a
look For a long time under a great affection.
Girish Goiric was born on 15 August 1987 in Bangladesh.
At the age of 14 years, the first poem of Goiric was published
in 'The Daily Bhorer Dak'. He has been working as a Journalist
in the 'The Daily Janakantha'; And author of Three books which
is the collection of poems: Khudharto Dhaner Namta (2016), Maa
Adhiparbo (2017), Dom (2018), Meditationguchha (2019). He edited
two books also: Ditio Dashoker Shrestha Kobita (2019) and
Boithakhanay Kobi (2019). He got graduated in Accounting from
National University of Bangladesh in 2013. His poems was
published in the renowned literary magazines and daily
newspapers of Bangladesh and India. He also attended many poetry
and literary festivals home and abroad.