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Showing posts from November, 2020

🐾 The Silent Healer

--- 🐾 The Silent Healer A cat is a creature, near and far, Sometimes at home, sometimes under star. It walks the night with fearless sight, In deepest dark, it feels like light. A pet it seems, yet wild at heart, It hides its food, a secret art. Slow it comes, the prey to chase, Quick it leaves, without a trace. When it leaps, no sound is found, Silent shadows upon the ground. Its eyes can pierce both dark and day, Its voice takes many forms of play. At times it cries like a child in pain, A mystery voice, like haunting rain. Yet useful it is, beyond our thought, A friend that healing whispers brought. It steals away the hidden disease, Destroys the virus with silent ease. Running, jumping, unseen, unheard, A healer wrapped in fur and word. So we may say, in life’s great strife, The cat’s the quiet friend of life. --- ✒️ Analysis (English) This poem portrays the cat not only as a familiar domestic pet but also as a mysterious, almost mystical figure. The cat’s ability to see in darkne...

đŸŒŋ Poem: “The Wings of Silence”

đŸŒŋ Poem: “The Wings of Silence” We know the bird, a living thing, that soars and sings in the endless sky. Yet some, like the penguin, though given wings, do not fly, but walk upon the earth. Some move by steps, their flight a fleeting dream— the hen, the duck, close to the soil they remain. And others— parrot, peacock, lark— dwell more in air than ground, their voices carrying the colors of the sky. Birds belong to two realms: the tamed, who live within our homes, their flight contained— a hen’s short rise, a pigeon’s wandering height. And the wild, with no master but the wind, who build their nests in ruins or trees, who sing at dawn, and return at dusk with music in their wings. They move with seasons, carry storms within their breath, yet fear not winter, nor the rains. I believe in their power: when disease draws near, they seem to hold it, to bear it, to free the world. As if their song itself is healing, as if their courage is medicine. Wild birds— ever free, ever singing— they ...

🌞 The Gift of the Sun

--- 🌞 The Gift of the Sun The sun — our nearest star, A lantern of light from afar. It gives us warmth, a golden ray, For health and life, no price to pay. From its glow, power flows, In every spark, its blessing shows. Vitamin D — a silent guard, Without it, the body grows hard. When shadows fall, and illness near, Cancer whispers, bringing fear, Yet the sun still speaks, so bright, “Take my heat, embrace my light.” But wisdom calls for balance too, Exercise and care in all we do. Each ailment has its rightful key, Discipline shapes our destiny. And if more guidance you may need, I’ll share the words, the paths to heed. For in the sun and in our strife, We find the art — the way of life. --- Analysis (English): This poem reflects on the sun as a giver of life — light, energy, and healing power. It emphasizes how sunlight provides free vitamin D, essential for health, and suggests that its warmth can play a supportive role in illness, including cancer. However, it also highlights the ...

🌙 Poem: “In the Light of the Moon”

--- 🌙 Poem: “In the Light of the Moon” In the light of the moon, I change my fortune. In the night of winter, You appear so fair. By reading in your light, I improve my sight. Though it seems impossible, I shall be careful. --- đŸĒļ āĻŦাংāϞা āĻ…āύুāĻŦাāĻĻ (Bengali Meaning) āϚাঁāĻĻেāϰ āφāϞো⧟ āϚাঁāĻĻেāϰ āφāϞো⧟ āφāĻŽি āĻŦāĻĻāϞাāχ āĻ­াāĻ—্āϝ। āĻļীāϤেāϰ āϰাāϤ্āϰিāϤে āϤুāĻŽি āĻĻেāĻ–াāĻ“ āĻ…āϤুāϞ āϏৌāύ্āĻĻāϰ্āϝ। āϤোāĻŽাāϰ āφāϞো⧟ āĻĒ⧜ে āϚোāĻ–ে āϜাāĻ—ে āĻĻৃāώ্āϟি। āĻ…āϏāĻŽ্āĻ­āĻŦ āĻŽāύে āĻšāϞেāĻ“ āφāĻŽি āĻšāĻŦ āϏāϤāϰ্āĻ•, āĻĻৃā§āĻĒ্āϰāϤিāϜ্āĻž। --- ✨ āĻŦিāĻļ্āϞেāώāĻŖ (Analysis in English) This poem portrays the moon as a symbol of guidance, hope, and beauty. The speaker finds strength and transformation ("I change my fortune") under the moonlight. The winter night, often symbolic of loneliness or hardship, is softened by the moon’s beauty. The moonlight gives wisdom and clarity ("improve my sight"). Even when life feels impossible, the poet vows to be careful and hopeful. So, the poem is about resilience, guidance, and the healing light of nature—how even the coldest winter night can hold beauty and i...

🏃‍♂️ Poem: The Golden Hour of Health

🏃‍♂️ Poem: The Golden Hour of Health When evening whispers soft and near, Before the dinner hour is here, A quarter-hour, so small, so bright, Can guard your health with gentle might. No costly pill, no bitter pain, No medicine need your strength sustain, If daily, with a steady pace, You gift your body this healing grace. Yet if disease has touched your way, Special exercises hold their sway, For each ailment, a guided art, To mend the body, soul, and heart. So waste not time, nor let it fly, Your health’s true wealth no gold can buy. In movement lies a secret key— The door to life’s vitality. --- ✨ Analysis (English) The poem emphasizes that the best time for regular exercise is one hour before dinner at night. Just 15 minutes daily can prevent diseases more effectively than medicine. The poem also notes that when a person is already ill, special exercises are needed, tailored to the condition. The philosophy here is that discipline in small acts creates lifelong health, and exercis...

🌙 Title: The Unseen Presence

🌙 Title: The Unseen Presence ✒️ Poetic Form (English) Some believe, some deny, Of angels and ghosts that wander the sky. The learned may laugh, the skeptic may say, “Such unseen bodies cannot sway.” But I believe, with heart so sure, The unseen exists, subtle and pure. They watch us close, though hidden from sight, Rare souls may glimpse them, in silence of night. They harm not the mind that is filled with thought, With study, with writing, with wisdom well-wrought. Such minds are guarded, safe in their flame, Yet still the unseen may whisper our name. At twelve years old, a tale I recall, With friends by the river, we gathered all. Fishing, feasting, a picnic begun, When bricks rained down, and we had to run. Fleeing in fear, our laughter erased, At distance we saw, our hearts were amazed: A woman in white, beneath a tree, Silent, eternal—yet staring at me. --- 🔍 Analysis (English) This poem explores the mystery of unseen beings—ghosts, spirits, angels—that some accept and others de...

✨ Dance of Balance

Before dinner, an hour away, Begin the movement, gentle play. Touch the wall with your right side, Lift the left hand, let it glide. Round the body, rise again, Repeat the circle, break the chain. Palms on stool, half sit, then stand, Strength awakens at your command. Lift the right leg, lift the left, Balance found, the body blessed. Forward, backward, side to side, Flowing like the ocean tide. At the end, with lips sealed tight, Hold the pressure, embrace the light. A mindful breath, the soul does rise, Peace reflected in the eyes. --- 📝 Bengali Meaning (Translation in Poetic Form) āĻļিāϰোāύাāĻŽ: āĻ­াāϰāϏাāĻŽ্āϝেāϰ āύৃāϤ্āϝ āϰাāϤেāϰ āĻ–াāĻŦাāϰেāϰ āφāĻ—ে āϏāĻŽāϝ়, āĻāĻ• āϘāĻŖ্āϟা āĻĢাঁāĻ•—āĻļুāϰু āĻšোāĻ• āϝাāϤ্āϰাāϰ āφāĻŦাāĻšāύāĻŽāϝ়। āĻĄাāύ āĻĻিāĻ•ে āĻĻেāĻ“āϝ়াāϞ āĻ›োঁāĻ“ āϤুāĻŽি, āĻŦাāĻŽ āĻšাāϤ āϤোāϞো, āφāϞোāϰ āϧ্āĻŦāύি। āĻļāϰীāϰ āϘুāϰে āωāĻ ুāĻ• āϧীāϰে, āĻĒুāύāϰাāĻŦৃāϤ্āϤি āĻšোāĻ• āĻŦাāϰংāĻŦাāϰ āĻĢিāϰে। āϏ্āϟুāϞে āϰাāĻ–ো āĻšাāϤেāϰ āĻ­āϰ, āĻ…āϰ্āϧেāĻ• āĻŦāϏো, āĻĻাঁāĻĄ়াāĻ“ āĻĒāϰāĻĒāϰ। āĻĄাāύ āĻĒা āϤোāϞো, āϤাāϰāĻĒāϰ āĻŦাঁ, āĻļāϰীāϰেāϰ āĻ­াāϰāϏাāĻŽ্āϝ āĻ–ুঁāϜে āĻĒাāĻ“āϝ়া āϝাāϝ় āϏেāĻĨা। āϏাāĻŽāύে–āĻĒেāĻ›āύে, āĻĄাāύ–āĻŦাāĻŽ āύাāϚ, āϏāĻŽুāĻĻ্āϰ āϤāϰāĻ™্āĻ—ে āĻĒ্āϰāĻŦাāĻšিāϤ āφāĻ›। āĻļেāώে āĻŽুāĻ– āĻŦāύ্āϧ, āύিঃāĻļ্āĻŦাāϏ āϰুāĻĻ্āϧ, āĻ­েāϤāϰে āĻļāĻ•্āϤি, āĻĒ্āϰ...

---✒️ Whispers in the Nigh

. --- ✒️ Arranged Poem Whispers in the Night In the light of night, I study still, Mother calls me, soft and shrill. As I sleep, the shadows creep, So I sweep the silence deep. Hearing sounds that fall to ground, A ghostly whisper circles round. Trembling breath, a tightened throat, On fragile air, my fears afloat. Yet once again, I turn to read, The ghost becomes a friend in need. What once was dread, now speaks to me— A strange companion in mystery. --- 🔎 English Analysis This poem captures the tension between fear and familiarity, between solitude and unseen companionship. At night, while studying, the poet feels the presence of something ghostly—a sound, a tremor of fear. But instead of fleeing, the poet continues to study, and the ghost transforms from a figure of dread into a buddy, almost symbolic of the way imagination, fear, or even death itself can be integrated into human life as part of learning and growth. The "mother’s call" represents grounding love and ordina...