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Poem

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Beauty
Professor Syed Ali Ahsan

In the ocean when the tide trumps,
Wind shifts
And the waves sweep the shore
While conches and mother pearls are
Spread over the sand
They forget to craw I back,
If they could become creepers
Or trees
Or hills
Which get lost in the clouds
They could have remembered
The days of vegetation and smell.

Those men and women who have not
Come to live on earth yet
I want to leave behind
A consolation for them-
Beauty is a shelled seed closed
And unknown
It may sprout forth as a creeper
Or into a many-branched tree.

What poet am I?
 M. Mizanur Rahman

What poet am I?
I don't fight shy
Of love for I am the poet of my mind.
I learnt everything from nature.
Even in the darkness, I never find me blind.
I can understand God and God's love and care.

I never see God's portrait but God's sense is in me.
My conscience asks me to look into myself carefully.
That conscience is with you alike to sense
what is good or bad.
Only you weld your temperament to take me into your accounts,
not to be sad.

If I do anything good to you, you may keep me in your mind.
I shall never go unpunished if I do wrong to you of any kind

As a poet I have my faith for my kith and kin and my people
All I feel sanguine in nature with my breath
That is malice to none but friendship to all.