The Mosquito Poem by MOLOY BHATTACHARYA
The Mosquito
It sings me in the ear
In visible darkness
And stings my back
To draw the blood
That keeps it alive.
I resolve to grasp
And squeeze it
But it escapes
From my rage
To hide somewhere
In bunker or corner.
It torments me
The whole night
And my sleep too.
In my drowsiness
I clap and punch.
In the morning
I wake up to find
It lying still and dead
Beside my pillow.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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4/16/2024 3:13:07 AM # 1.0.0.1119
