Photographer's Note

The harvest was over, long ago--the field
lies brown, dry husk
dead leaves, sinewy twigs, egg shell--shorn skin of snake, broken nest, cold.

Past all these in that distant field
Sleep those folks, so very familiar--they sleep in peace.

There once was one--we spent many days, many nights,
Many hurts did I do playing with our hearts,
Yet there is peace: in the dark green grass,
where grasshoppers live,
Where her thought now sleeps, and sleep many unanswered questions.

Translated from: The Harvest is Over (Dhan kata hoyegeche)
by Jibanananda Das.

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Additional Photos by Animesh Ray (AnimeshRay) Gold Star Critiquer/Silver Workshop Editor/Gold Note Writer [C: 689 W: 44 N: 846] (9089)
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