Bhaben Barua

Rating: 4.33
Rating: 4.33

Bhaben Barua Poems

There’s a silent grace mathematical,in each and every bone,
Like smiles unembodied ,in each and every cell,
The ultimate that has no colour,no sound,no taste or smell.
...

Each word is an angel. Have to
Find each one in that smoky solitude — where
An evening drowns in the water — And above the
Dark forest suddenly is visible the glimmer of a star-studded sky — flapping
...

The feel of your hands
Comes like the cold.
On the asphalt road at night,
In disjointed bits of song.
...

Search, search in the bosom of night
With your hands outstretched
Those hands where time keeps moving.
...

Down the very heart
Of a wide expanse of waters
Lies a music of transparence
Of unfathomable sorrows.
...

It's the voice of whiteness -- a blue-throated restless silence :
That's upon the peaks of life, and of death too;
Found through meaninglessness at intervals --
...

He keeps humming
on the moments of the midday--
hung out on the clothes-lines.
...

Bhaben Barua Biography

Bhaben Barua is a poet and a critic. He served as a faculty member of Guwahati University. He edited The Assam Quarterly, The Assam Academic Review and The Research Journal of Guwahati University. He received the Sahitya Akademi award (1979) for Sonali Jahaj, a poetry-collection.)

The Best Poem Of Bhaben Barua

Winter, Cold And Graceful

There’s a silent grace mathematical,in each and every bone,
Like smiles unembodied ,in each and every cell,
The ultimate that has no colour,no sound,no taste or smell.
The far-off nebula all empty, empty, empty
Only the blind restlessness of matter through millions of light years;
Where only heaps of matter way, straight, bent, zigzag, prolonged, angular, rounded….

Blind restlessness!
Upon the peak of the non-living,the first flash of
Joy of the ‘Palash’-
The commotion of blood-red lives,
The blood-red voice of seeds in the sun’s abode.

Blind restlessness:
Flowers and fruits on the tip of brush-
Filled with ambrosia,
Blood-red smiles rise all over the body,
The moving passion of youth ,its muscular enterprise

O’erflowing the banks-
Blind restlessness?
There’s a silent grass mathematical,
The unembodied smiles of matter-
In our songs too?

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