Red Umbrella Poem by Majul Hassan

When people become happy, rainy day walks down with crutches
Thane verandah lies at right, bus terminal on the left
And the old banyan tree stands slightly angle
In this triangle area, a Lotus-Church stands—ruby-head snake
Tumbles on top of that
Then, Even a cold-blooded lover— little Buddha Loves to
Peel the orange
No craving I have. I'm not a man,
Neither a three-horned rhino—merely a security guard of orchard
Why does same-age aunt love my Frog Dance?
On the dinner table why should we have a knife?
I know nothing about that. Only know: if there is a lightning war
In the city—then tear of holocaust, diamond rain,
And depress ball-flowers is the only truth.
I love mango pickle; love to flam,
If somebody shoo off the cat, heaviness engulfs the whole evening.
I'm not active like the wet pomegranate.
Intact Vodka, curved tea garden, indecisive talk,
And of course, like the thirteen red roses I love my Red Umbrella.