PrimeloreVerse: A Fortnightly Global Literary Journey | Vol. 03.

We are trying to represent all new poets who wants to write PrimeloreVerse: A Fortnightly Global Literary Journey. Thanks all. First 3 poems are free for each new poets. After these 3 poems please buy your membership to continue your poem.

If you want to read Vol-02 , Just click the picture Bellow:

Nobel Prize in Literature-Anne Carson
On October 8, 2026, Carson was sweeping her kitchen floor in Reykjavík, Iceland, when she received the telephone call announcing that she had won the Nobel Prize in Literature.

01.
Poem: “What is your feeling”
Dedicated to all lady Nobel prize owner of literature.
Poet: Afroza Jesmine.
From: Bangladesh 🇧🇩
Primelore Published Date: 11 October, Sunday 2026.

O Lady!
What is your feeling
When someone calls out,
“You are my country,
I love you.”

O Lady!
What is your feeling
When you present
A new world?

O Lady!
What is your feeling
When someone
Gives you a blank page?

O Lady!
What is your feeling
When you touch
Your first love letter?

O Lady!
What is your feeling
When you give birth
Your first baby?

O Lady!
What is your feeling
When you conquer
Your first dream?

O Lady!
What is your feeling
When you hear
You have won the Nobel Prize
For your literature !
©® Afroza Jesmine.



02.
Poem: “Generosity”
Poet: Mary Garde
From:
Primelore Published Date: 11 October, Sunday 2026.

it never sees
to amaze me
how selfish is the world

many people go around with their fancy clothes on
traveling in shiny cars

with their noses
in the air
their head plugged
into listening devices
not paying attention to where they be

children begging with stomachs distended
sunken eyes
too weak to hold their
hands out for a coin

people continue on
as if they cannot see
just think if everyone from
here to there stopped and shared a little bit
more kids would get meals

they’d grow to know
what being fed was like
plus their parents wouldn’t sell them own little girls
more things I question

where are the men in the desserts where women carry their babies on their back and must shelter in caves Im thinking the men are off to war
what if instead of confiscating peoples land
they stayed in
their own land
leave and give them
some resources to rebuild
where they came from
©® Mary Garde.



03.
Poem: “THE PRICE OF A DREAM”
Poet: Vo Thi Nhu Mai,
From: Australia.
Primelore Published Date: 11 October, Sunday 2026.

We loved beneath four seasons of restless flowers
Our dreams were brighter than a thousand kisses
You held my hand through roads of passion
We walked as though the earth could disappear

But every dream demands something from the heart
Love asks for courage when tomorrow maybe hard
We paid with nights of longing and sadness
We paid with fears we never dared confess

You brought me flowers, deep as ripened plums
Dew embraces moonlight; dawn rested on petals
For one brief moment, everything became eternal
Yet dreams can vanish while we hold them

Still, we chose to be foolish together
We climbed the steepest roads beneath the stars
I stumbled; you reached back and held me
The moon watched our promises bloom

You promised me the universe would remember
I promised to stay when dreams grew heavy
Perhaps love’s greatest cost is simply believing
And still, my heart says: promise me
©® Vo Thi Nhu Mai,



04.
Poem: “THE WORLD I WANDER THROUGH”
Poet: Mustafa Naci ÖZER
From: Türkiye.
Primelore Published Date: 11 October, Sunday 2026.

A garden made of heaven, with roses blooming bright,
A fountain of love and friendship, where words bring pure delight.
An endless sea of beauty, reflected in the eyes,
The wondrous world I wander through, beneath the endless skies…
A gentle melody that lingers in my ears,
A tender touch upon my skin that drives away my fears.
A sweet and lovely fragrance that rises in the air,
The wondrous world I wander through, a dream beyond compare…
A winding road that stretches far, a path that leads away,
A hidden tale that takes me on, where dreams and feelings stay.
An innocent and lovely face that fills my heart with light,
The wondrous world I wander through, so beautiful and bright…
A sacred love that gently flows and settles in the heart,
A beautiful feeling written deep within the soul from the start.
A love that stays throughout my life, forever to remain,
The wondrous world I wander through, my joy, my love, my flame…
©® Mustafa Naci ÖZER



05.
Poem: “Peace”
Poet: EVA Petropoulou Lianou
From: Greece.
Primelore Published Date: 11 October, Sunday 2026.

Peace We found inside us
We are grateful for every hard moment
Because once the tough will pass
We will be in a complete harmony with our self

We need peace of mind
We are in a transmission
And everything is going too fast
Information about things we do not need

Advice about how to react
To live
To eat
To breathe
To exist
We are in need of peace
But first we need to understand
What is Peace
©® EVA Petropoulou Lianou



06.
Poem: “Illusion of Envy” (Dedicated to all noble souls who suffer from envy)
Poet: Lan Xin (Lanxin Samei)
From: China.
Primelore Published Date: 11 October, Sunday 2026.

An ancient Chinese proverb tells us:
Tall trees in the forest draw the wind;
Mounds rising above banks draw the torrent;
Those whose deeds stand above others invite slander.

Trapped in the small self, many in the world
sink into endless envy, comparison, calculation and rivalry.
Bound by ignorance, they weave cages for themselves.
They see others’ radiance as a threat,
and bring exclusion, criticism and harm.

If you endure trials, attacks, slander and suppression,
dear friend, congratulations!
You are no minor supporting character.
You are the leading lady and leading man
in the grand drama of life.

Those who envy, trouble and wound you
bear the karmic risk of descending into hell,
push you to rebirth from fire, phoenix-like,
forging unbreakable wings and diamond resolve,
breathing forth fearless courage.

I forge ahead through envy and exclusion,
and in this process, gain the power of phoenix nirvana.
I do not envy others, for I deeply know
behind every gleaming appearance
lie unseen hardships and perseverance.
All beings bear their burdens, no one’s journey is easy.
Every light others carry is forged by their tears and blood.
Those who are leading ladies and leading men
hold a heart of universal love to warm the world,
possess profound wisdom to break delusion,
embrace the breadth to contain all things,
and the courage to bear immense weight.

No climbing, no comparison, keep your true heart.
Learn to be love, be light,
shine your radiance upon the world,
guide humanity out of the maze of comparison and envy.
You write your own life story.
You will eventually shine bright！
©® Lan Xin



07.
Poem: “TWO DIFFERENT WORLDS, SAME HEART!”
Poet: Jagoda Sablić.
From: Croatia
Primelore Published Date: 11 October, Sunday 2026.

Songs followed them.
Love followed,
Silences separated them.
Two different worlds
Connected by a bridge
Of friendship –
Forever.
The sky embraced them.
Dawns kissed them.
Dewdrops
Washed the sleeping
Faces of poets.
Starry sky,
Illuminated
Their
Sleepless
Nights,
In which
With a pen
They wrote LOVE.
Two different
Worlds.
Same souls.
Same hearts,
Created
A circle of love and
Peace, wrote
The poetry of the world,
Inscribed in
The timeless
Capsule of life.
©® Jagoda Sablić.



08.
Poem: “Questions Whose Answers Are You”
Poet: Mufid Nabzo
From: Syria – Mahardeh.
Primelore Published Date: 11 October, Sunday 2026.

Have you ever asked yourself: What is the meaning of your existence?
Why were you born in this particular time and place?
Why are you you, and not someone else?
Is the path you are to follow, stage by stage, already drawn for you?
Has someone else’s path been traced upon your canvas, in colours that are not your own?
So many questions.
Question marks suspended over questions that have found no answers since the time of a poem by the Chinese poet Lu Ji.
And the human being keeps turning upon the axis of the earth.
Generations have succeeded one another; civilisations have risen and disappeared. Yet the human being still spins like a fan, caught in a circle that comes to rest at the very point from which it began—at the summit of the dome whose depths hold him at its lowest point.
Is it a mill?
Or a rainbow that never reached completion?
Is it a galaxy—or are we the atoms of its nucleus?
And what trace can remain but the word, like a rain-laden cloud that breathes life into drought and causes meadows to bloom across barren lands?
Our lives are wastelands.
How noble is the one who plants a small seedling in sandy soil, tends it, and waters it with a portion of his own time—like one who plants hope in barren, rocky ground.
Our existence is immersed in profound darkness.
How magnificent is the one who lifts a fish from a stagnant, foul-smelling marsh and casts it into a sea of light!
How wondrous is poetry!
How magnificent is art!
How sweet is the song of birds above the oasis of gazelles!
How beautiful are the shadows of green branches as they sway in the breeze beneath the fluttering wings of butterflies!
So—are you a branch, or a butterfly?
How beautiful is gentle power when it becomes a filter for the salt-laden waves within wounded souls, and a furnace of fire that burns the chaff from the wheat stalks, kneads the grain, and bakes a loaf with the yeast of joy for those deprived of life’s daily bread.
What is the meaning of being if you are not an essential reflection within your own mirror—if, in its glass, others cannot glimpse the depths of their own souls—or if you are not a voice whose echo remains whole?
You are the meaning.
You are existence.
So beware of becoming nothingness.
For the whole is a part, and each part joins with another so that wholeness may emerge—not through the mere gathering of parts, but through each part growing through the other and ripening within it.
And therefore, it must eventually separate from it, turning within a circle that is open and closed at once, between ascent and descent—for everything that rises toward the heights must descend toward the depths.
Such is the cycle of rain, like a child’s carousel, turning beneath its dancing lights with the children upon it.
I have chosen to be a waterwheel without a moan—
for the water,
the plants,
the birds,
and my brother in humanity.
©® Mufid Nabzo.

09.
Poem: “A man spreads flowers beneath himself”
Poet: Abdullayev Süleyman Hashim
From: Republic of Azerbaijan
Primelore Published Date: 11 October, Sunday 2026.

A man spreads flowers beneath himself
and sits upon his own grave.
Everyone wishes
to live until their own death.
To know the colour
of the final breath,
to feel the place
where the air runs out,
to pluck sleep away
from the tips of eyelashes
like a dream discarded…
Strange are those
who have fallen from their strength.
They seep, drop by drop,
into the deepest chambers
of themselves, my friend…
Life flows like water —
muddy, clouded,
yet clear-eyed like a wild spring.
©® Abdullayev Süleyman Hashim



10.
Poem: “I was the only Option to You:”
Poet: © Til Kumari Sharma
From: Nepal
Primelore Published Date: 11 October, Sunday 2026.

You got better than me you selected another:
Really it was not true love of you.
I was just looked for an option.
I was left in your selection.
So, I survived badly.
A polluted dream gave me the truth of your false love.
So I dreamt of white clothes.
At that time I was victimized by your false blaming and abusive words.
Then after your abusive words I realized that I was deceived and seen as with bad white clothes.
It was seen as your false love.
The dream was truly showed me that you were not my true lover/ husband and life mate.
Your love was or is transformed to someone.
Then you were dead to me.
The truth of dream depicted me that no one loved me truly.
Then I turned my love to artistic eternity.
There is a heart block in my heart to any males to enter in my life.
So I got victory in art.
Now I am a lover of my art.
So, living alone is my choice.
©® Til Kumari Sharma



11.
Poem: “A Poem Gets Written”
Poet: Sajid Soomro
From: Sindh, Pakistan
Primelore Published Date: 11 October, Sunday 2026.

The girl
I wrote my first poem about
used to follow me around.
She would watch me secretly
and speak to me in secret.

The girl
I wrote my second poem about
was blind.
She spoke with her tongue,
but saw with her hands.
Her hair was so long
that even if buffaloes were tied to it,
they could never break free.

The girl
I wrote my last poem about
was my wife.
She now has four sons.

I have stopped writing poems now,
but whenever I write the grocery bill,
somehow or other,
it turns into a poem
about some girl.
©® Sajid Soomro



12.
Poem: “O My Country”
Poet: Dr Ratan Bhattacharjee
From: India
Primelore Published Date: 11 October, Sunday 2026.

O my country, you are a river carrying broken mirrors,
where every reflection remembers a different dream.
Your streets wear the dust of history like an old medal,
while neon towers whisper promises to the night.
A thousand flags bloom, yet the wind remains restless,
and silence grows like moss between crowded voices.
Your villages keep the moon in earthen lamps,
while cities chase the sun through glass and steel.
Still, beneath your wounded soil, a seed refuses to sleep—
and I hear tomorrow breathing in its roots.
©® Dr Ratan Bhattacharjee



13.
Poem: “Towards the future”
Poet: Sabrina Nipu,
From: Bangladesh.🇧🇩
Primelore Published Date: 11 October, Sunday 2026.

Like a vagabond, time circles back again and again to this very spot.
Some torn clouds drift away as the wind fills the sky with a rushing sound,
carrying dark specks of clouds.
Afternoon arrives at the four-way intersection,
and that breezy afternoon takes me back to the unpaved and paved roads,
the tube-well, the damp courtyard of a crumbling, fading two-story house,
covered in madhavi vines.Climbing the broken, dilapidated stairs,
I go to the balcony on the second floor.
As I sink into the chair with the broken arm, the vapor from the first rain rises from below,
and I deeply inhale the scent of the wet earth.Fallen leaves fly in as if seeking shelter on my lap.
In an instant,
I am transported back to distant adolescence,
and this eternal sigh keeps lengthening more and more.
©® Sabrina Nipu



14.
Poem: “WHEN LOVE IS SALVIFIC.”
Poet: Concetta La Placa.
From: Italy.
Primelore Published Date: 11 October, Sunday 2026.

It is an inexplicable tension, that state of mind which draws us into that strange emotion that
makes us glow with passion.
It is something transcendent, something all-consuming that slowly
captures the heart, bound to an extraordinary emotion, and lightens it with joy.
This happens when love is redeeming, unique and all-consuming.
When love carries you as if on a cloud of happiness and you don’t know why it’s happening!
©® Concetta La Placa.



15.
Poem: “Artificial Tears”
Poet: Yeon Myung-ji
From: South Korea.
Primelore Published Date: 11 October, Sunday 2026.

​Spring, when unsent text messages bloom into cherry blossoms.
Sentences I want to press down and write; sitting in the flower shade, I cannot read the lines
of that day and feel motion sickness.

​Hidden matters remain deep in the sea for a long time,
and the hurried footsteps that used to call “Mom” no longer open the door.
The end of April reaches the sea and begins to gather cold tears,

​and deep shoulders come leaning in as dusk falls.
Because tears would not return, I put artificial tears in my pocket

and sat for a long time beneath the cherry tree dropping its petals.
​In front of a young mother snapping photos while exclaiming “How pretty, how pretty,”
a girl sitting in a wheelchair is smiling faintly.

​Eyes indifferent to falling things,

caught red-handed by the dazzlingly beautiful scenery,
make the white, scattering cherry blossoms sob.

​Lingering long beside the people of spring overflowing with vitality, I dried the wet eyes
inside my eyelids.
​Rustle inside the flower petals, artificial tears spill chillingly.
©® Yeon Myung-ji.



16.
Poem: “INTERESTING SEASON”
Poet: Shaip Z. Zeqiri
From: Albania.
Primelore Published Date: 11 October, Sunday 2026.
scienve.
Oh, it tells us that we are older
And the weather is colder…
Sometimes we forget the reason,
But we see and feel different season!
We didn’ t collect all the fruites,
But really they can be frozen….
Nobody could imagine so an early winter
With so much snow on high mountains
And cold wind and heavy rains!
What’ s going to happen,
? Mayby nobody needs anymore weapen!
We just have to pray and sing:
Hope everybody for an early spring!
©® Shaip Z. Zeqiri.

17.
Poem: “IN THE GARDEN’S OLD CORNER”
Poet: Maria Kolovou Roumelioti
From: Greece
Primelore Published Date: 11 October, Sunday 2026.

In the garden’s old corner, the season’s first rain arrived.
It raised its bow—its piercing spear.
The cypresses bowed, and the birds took fright.
Midsummer-night dreams—the clouds gathered them in!

Love, the storyteller, peddled fairy tales
To wagtails, partridges, and dull-witted hens.
He never loved the Hag called Truth!
Only magic potions hidden in cosmetics.

In the garden’s old corner, fennel and acacia;
The cherry tree withered away from melancholy.
The wind paused a moment, drawing out his bellows—
Lemon blossoms scattered across his face.

An arsonist and a rascal, a traitor to love;
He stirs the depths—a soldier of the chimera.
In the lake’s murky water, the knight finds no thirst quenched—
Only cypress cones and memories of youth!!!!
©® Maria Kolovou Roumelioti



18.
Poem: “Behind the Mask”
Poet: Ahmed Mostofa Faisal
From: Bangladesh 🇧🇩
Primelore Published Date: 11 October, Sunday 2026.

Am I truly myself
or merely a learned smile?
Inside, a silent soul weeps,
while outside applause resounds.

Leaves perform their greeness;
the river cries in salted dreams.
The sky turns blue with pain,
hiding sorrow in infinite secrecy.

At night I remove the mask,
and question myself –
‘How true were you today,
And how much of you survived by acting?

Raindrops tap upon the window;
It feels as though nature, too, is quickly crying.
I keep starting toward the sky –
perhaps my reflection lives there.

In the water that has gathered behind my smile,
I keep searching for my truth.
Bio:
Ahmed Mostofa Faisal (born 1983, Bangladesh) is a poet, thinker and drama director whose work reflects humanity and ethics. He was born into a distinguished Bengali family in Jhenaidah. He holds an Honors degree in Government and Politics and is deeply engaged in literature and drama direction. He is also actively involved in humanitarian initiatives, including blood donation drives and support for underprivileged communities.The World Honorary Doctoral Claustro of the Hispanomundial Union of Writers (UHE) Awards ‘the Honorific Distinction of Doctorate Honoris Causa’ to him and appoints him as President of his country of them (UHE, Peru & Spain). An internationally recognized literary figure, he was named a World Ambassador of Peace with Total Justice (2026) by UHE and Utopía de las Artes (Peru & Spain). His additional accolades include the Award of Associate Membership in the International Academy of Ethics, receiving the Golden Eagle Award (2026) for literature by Peru & Spain and receiving an international certificate of participation for the 80th World Entrepreneurship Day from the Republic of Colombia. He has been named Chancellor of Bangladesh by the Student Chancelleries of the Republic of Colombia on September 26, 2026
He got Swadeshe Bichitra Award ( National Newspaper) too. He received the Human Rights Award (2023), a commemorative honor at the Children’s Literature Festival 2023, and was named Poet of the Year, 2026 (Humanist of the World, USA). He got a Certificate of Honor for the anthology ‘All Together’ from Kujtim Hajderi and Dr. H. Blery. He is also a member of Academy Farsala, Greece and a Lifetime Member of the National Poet Kazi Nazrul Islam Institute, Bangladesh. His quotes, philosophical ideas and literary reflections are published in various Anthoogies and shared in various languages and his book, Aynate Oi Mukh, is widely celebrated. ©® Ahmed Mostofa Faisal



19.
Poem: “Twilight”
Poet: Agron Shele
From: Albania – Belgium
Primelore Published Date: 11 October, Sunday 2026.

At the twilight I saw the angel descending
like only he knows to
his white wings blinded the night
and a bright vail covered the sky,
the glowing shape, like a hanging spirit
the fire, kidnapped from the bosom
that was burning on the eyes of lightning
and was poured as a thunderclap
in the turbulent sea

Or maybe it was the magic of life
that descends from the God’s throne
to bestow only one flash
that was lost to the sunset
to the ship’s rigs surrounded by seagulls
permeating invisible circles
flickering on a cover of mystery
as a mirage remains in my daydream.

At the twilight I saw the only light
brightening the frame of a siren
that radiates her hair to the waterfall,
immersing them to the ends of depth
like a reflection of glory itself
to her arm, covered in emerald
where the specter of colors brakes
attracted to a red charm.
©® Agron Shele .



20.
Poem: “Platonic Love”
Poet: Sumon Samsuddin
From: USA.
Primelore Published Date: 11 October, Sunday 2026.

You gave me a moment’s peace, yet stole
Two centuries of my tranquil soul!
With a tender spell, you wrapped my chest,
For three hundred sixty seconds, no rest—
Its echoes now burn for millennia, possessed.

Your lips etched verses on my throat,
Of Shirin and Farhad’s timeless note.
Now in my voice, an unsteady tune,
The Piper’s melody sways me too soon.

Diving into your hair’s fragrant maze,
I’ve lost myself in a drunken daze.
Gazing into your eyes, so profound,
I’ve forgotten I’m human—lost, unbound.

Your cheeks blush with the night’s allure,
While my lips storm with poetic desire.
Within my veins, dormant volcanoes stir,
Unclaimed eruptions, a fiery whisper.

Twin peaks of warmth crash in tidal delight,
Yet you remain icy, detached in the night.
In glacial streams, platonic love dissolves,
As days collapse, their edges unresolved.
The final light of dusk makes its home,
In a shapeless void, where shadows roam.
©® Sumon Samsuddin



21.
Poem: “Where Silence Knows My Name”
Poet: Menda VRETO
From: Albania.

Primelore Published Date: 11 October, Sunday 2026.

I seek a morning
that remembers my name,
a quiet ray of sunlight
that does not pass me by.

I walk through streets
that stretch beneath my feet,
long rivers of stone
carrying me somewhere unknown.

Around me,
the city speaks in a thousand lights,
yet my heart listens
to a song from far away.

I seek the things
time has hidden from me:
a familiar scent,
a half-open door,
the warmth of a memory
still burning in the dark.

Sometimes, longing
is a bird without a sky.
It beats its wings inside my chest,
searching for a place to rest.

And I let it fly.

Perhaps I am not searching for a home,
nor for a road,
nor for a place written on a map.

Perhaps I am searching
for that little corner of the world
where my heart is no longer a stranger,
where even silence
knows my name.

Maybe what I seek
is not waiting at the end of the journey.

Maybe it is hidden
inside every step
I take toward the light.
Menda VRETO .



22.
Poem: “Enchantment of Naran-Kaghan Valley”
Poet: Syed Shah Hussain
From: Pakistan.
Primelore Published Date: 11 October, Sunday 2026.

In Naran-Kaghan Valley,
There blows soft, cold breeze.
We can find wildflowers in dense forests
Under pine and alpine trees.

And sitting under the trees,
Listening to the whispering of streams,
Enjoying their melodious voice,
Breathtaking landscape screams.

Watching the morning dew
On the petals are like pearls,
My sight spots some peasants
And a few agile squirrels.

The floating clouds and gentle,
Cool breeze which climb the peaks,
Exploring the fountains, mountains,
And climbing hilly steeps.

The sunlight screaming through the gaps
In trees gives mysterious delight,
The rising moon, the glittering stars,
Which caught my sight.

Watching millions of stars,
A bright moon in a shiny Milky Way,
Water streams and speedy winds
Blowing in each way.

Himalayan bears roam,
Snow leopards prowl the land,
Golden eagles soar above,
Majestic and grand.

Among wild roses and junipers,
Flora abounds,
The Naran-Kaghan valley,
Beauty in every corner astounds.
Purple iris and buttercups,
Dots the grassy floor,
Where foxes wander,
adding charm to the lore.

At lakes like Saif-ul-Malook,
Their tales inspire
Legends of fairies
That never seem to tire.

Ansoo,Lulusar and Dudipatsar,
Reflections so serene,
Nature’s splendor surrounds,
A breathtaking scene.

Shogran’s meadows,mountains of Himalaya
And Siripaye’s trails hold their grace.
Among towering pines and Alpines,
You’ll find peace and solace.

Rich history lingers
In ancient monuments of grace,
Islamic, Sikh, Hindu, and Buddhist
Cultures leave their trace.

The Naran-Kaghan valley,
A paradise on Earth,
A haven of wonder,
A gem of priceless worth.
Syed Shah Hussain.



23.
Poem: “Fight with Words”
Poet: Amb. Dr Tomasz Laczek
From: LUTON UK
Primelore Published Date: 11 October, Sunday 2026.

A breath of freshness touches the face,
A new thought arises in your mind.
The world of humanity is a whirlwind of chaos,
Who listens to the truth today?

Oceans of human contradictions,
Flooded by the swamp of darkness.
Rivers full of lies keep flowing,
Human thoughts become streams of filth.

Black hearts, hard as stone,
Dark is the conscience of people today.
Grey life, grey days throughout,
Even faces and eyes have grown numb.

Yet I see other people,
Whom a warm word will awaken.
With the infinity of my hope,
Through the cry of silence I call for holiness.

Clad in the silver armour of love,
He fears nothing, not even the wolf.
My heart fights for you,
A spark among masses lost in darkness.

I carry the word of truth within my heart,
And with the wind I will carry it to distant lands.
I will rebuild the feelings within you,
For I find goodness in every heart.

Nothing will stop me,
A new era of humanity begins.
I strive to engrave myself in you through words,
So that your hearts may be united.

Author’s Note:
In every human being there is a spark of humanity.
© ® Amb. Dr Tomasz Laczek.



24.
Poem : “Nothing Should Remain Personal”
Poet : Alam Mahbub
From : Bangladesh 🇧🇩.
Primelore Published Date: 11 October, Sunday 2026.

Nothing should remain personal—
except sorrow:
a shadowless, secret weeping,
the intimate sigh of a solitary noon,
the rainbow of a dream
already flown away.
Nothing should remain personal —
except the darkness
holding the hand of evening —
a spring song filled with the cries
of a broken heart,
the sickly gloom
of fallen flowers.
Nothing should remain personal—
except the beauty
hidden behind promises,
the solitary wind
across the barren earth,
beyond the door—
except the blind days
of a long,
waiting night.
Nothing should remain personal —
except love:
the verses of rain
written in the kohl-black nights of failure,
the word and scent

of the shadowless roots
of a torn story.
Nothing should remain personal —
except pain.
© ® Alam Mahbub



25.
Poem: “A Red Fish”
Poet: Sohrab Pasha
From: Bangladesh 🇧🇩.
Primelore Published Date: 11 October, Sunday 2026.

Translated by Alam Mahbub.
A red fish has flown away somewhere,
my beloved dreams are sick, without punctuation;
beneath the trees, dead sunlight, leafless—
a yellow, pallid age.
Running fiercely toward me comes
the incomprehensible season of ruin.
Is your clock stopped?
Blood had entered— what impoverished shadow
of a soiled human being?
Who, in the red car of afternoon,
searches for a lonely past?
Memories are very gentle and patient;
from far away they call with an intensity that draws them near.
Some people love the clouds,
tearing white pages day and night
to write darkness.
They never see the butterflies of tender sunlight.
Did Tagore’s Chitra ever return?
The strange mystery and splendor
of Jibanananda’s spring—
you, I, and that other one, of palash and krishnachura— a romantic story
of wounded yesterday.
A million springs will hear the song of the sleepless nights
of your separation from mine.
© ® Sohrab Pasha

Thanks All on behalf of PrimeloreVerse: A Fortnightly Global Literary Journey | Vol. 03.