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THE NARRATOR poems by A. NASBULLAH (???????????.a)

NASBULLAH(b.1974) is a reputed poet from Kinniya in Eastern Sri Lanka. He has more than ten poem-collections to his credit. His poems are known for their fantasy element with which reality is seamlessly blended. a poem collection of his in English has already come in print and this is the second. The poet's email id: ethirpirathigal@gmail.com?.★★★★★★????? (1974) ★★★★★★★★★★★★???? ★★★★★★★★★★★★ ★★★★★★???.★★★★★★?? ??? ????? ????? ★★★★★★? ★★★★★★????? ★★★★★★? ★★★★★★★★★★★★?? ★★★★★★? ???? ★★★★★★★★★★★★ ★★★★★★???? ★★★★★★???. ??? ????? ★★★★★★???? ????. ★★★★★★? ★★★★★★★★★★★★? ★★★★★★???? ★★★★★★????? (????? 2003), ★★★★★★?? ★★★★★★ ????? ★★★★★★???? (????? 2009),★★★★★★????? ????? ????? (????? 2011),???? ????? (★★★★★★? 2013),★★★★★★? ★★★★★★? (????? 2014),????? ★★★★★★?? ????? (????? 2015),★★★★★★? ★★★★★★????? ★★★★★★??? ????? (????? 2016),★★★★★★★★★★★★? ????? (????? 2017),???? ???? (????? 2018), A. Nasbullah poem's ?.★★★★★★????? ★★★★★★?? Translator's Note: Presenting Reality through Fantasy - this to me is the essence of poet A. Nasbullah's verses. And, the fantasies he presents to paint or highlight an aspect of human life or heart are bewitching, to say the least. The magic in these fantastic verses are enjoyable to read and they demand the reader's attention to the very end. In the strand of featherthat floats off separating from a birdI keep searching for myself. Out of thatthe bird's lifeoozes in the hue of blood. Wonder whose betrayal or bloody curseEnmeshed in coloursI keep searching concealedthe second transcript of my life. It is not as appealing as the initial one.??? ★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★???? ★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★??? ★★★★★★ ★★★★★★★★★★★★????.??? ★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★?? ★★★★★★???? ★★★★★★??? ★★★★★★★★★★★★??? ★★★★★★? ★★★★★★ ★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★? ★★★★★★★★★★★★????? ★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★? ★★★★★★★★★★★★???? ★★★★★★???? ????? ★★★★★★??? ★★★★★★★★★★★★?? ?????.*Becoming a birdI climb upon the river and walkThe birds that come flying at the same timecrossing the remaining distancesalight and sit by my side. There a new world comes into being. Drinking water in the teapot-shaped rockWe, the birds set forth. In the room where I dwellWindow remains opened. I peep through. Holding the brushtrying to complete the remaining part of the painting_ two serpentine memories.*★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★? ★★★★★★ ★★★★★★★★★★★★? ★★★★★★???? ★★★★★★???? ★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★?? ★★★★★★?? ★★★★★★★★★★★★??? ★★★★★★★★★★★★