In The Name Of Mortality (Smita Dey Tarafder)

For there endures obscurity over the world and the heaven,

 Whilst the enraged spirit of dawn repudiates to awaken,

 Urge you, O glimmer from oblivion to advance,

 And offer the visor ambiance a vivid glance.

 There subsists in the cradle of the night’s taciturn,

 An unheeded smolder, solitary to out burn,

 Enabling a tether free haul, by some anonymous twine,

 Of my Soul, into the prison of inert dowels, to confine,

 Where existence embraces the name of seclusion,

 With anguish which blinds each splendor, to imprison,

 And release the setting rays of pleasure for an oppress,

 As bandits of time burgled the treasure of breathing in recess.

 The Season of my infancy is strayed into a lost World’s breath,

 And I am altered to a mute mortal underneath shadows of Death, 

 Over the loam of lesions where reigns brutality,

 O glimmer, weep not for me in the name of mortality.

By

 ( Smita Dey Tarafder )

A Woman's Face with Nature's Own Hand Painted ( Shakespeare )

A woman’s face with Nature’s own hand painted

 Hast thou, the master-mistress of my passion;

 A woman’s gentle heart, but not acquainted

 With shifting change, as is false women’s fashion;

 An eye more bright than theirs, less false in rolling,

 Gilding the object whereupon it gaze-th;

 A man in hue, all hues in his controlling,

 Much steals men’s eyes and women’s souls amaze-th.

 And for a woman wert thou first created;

 Till Nature, as she wrought thee, fell a-doting,

 And by addition me of thee defeated,

 By adding one thing to my purpose nothing.

     But since she prick’d thee out for women’s pleasure,

     Mine be thy love and thy love’s use their treasure

BY

(WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE)