What can be explained is not poetry. YEATS
by Dev
It is the tears of the earth that keep her smiles in bloom. TAGORE
The job of the artist is always to deepen the mystery FRANCIS BACON
One hand she press'd upon that aching spot Where beats the human heart,…
Quis custodiet ipsos custodes? JUVENAL
I balanced all, brought all to mind, The years to come seemed waste of…
ঝড়ে যায় উড়ে যায় গো আমার মুখের আঁচলখানি। ঢাকা থাকে না হায়…
I see everyone rushing — Rushing, tripping, running. Running for the…
Blow gently over my garden, Wind of the Southern sea, In the hour that…
This is Pankaj Chowdhury, my father's photo buddy and best friend for…
