Shakhawat Tipu, born in Sandwip, lives in Dhaka. He is a distinguished poet, essayist and editor from Bangladesh. A prominent figure of the new Bengali poetic movement, Tipu established himself as a leading poet of his generation. His poems have been translated in Greek, Spanish, Italian, Serbian, Slovenian, Chinese and other languages. He has published eight titles of poems and a book on a famous Bengali sculptor Novera Ahmed and her works. Recently he published two Bengali poetry books: Snayujuddha [Cold War, 2022] and Razar Kangkal [The Skeleton of Prince, 2020]. Tipu edited Jatiya Shahittya (2008), a magazine of linguistics and philosophy and Charalnama (2011), a collection of street people’s interviews with a dictionary and Tarka (2021), a magazine of literary and cultural theory. His poems appeared in many magazines and anthologies around the world. He is a founder editor at Bengali literary magazine pratidhwanibd.com.

à propos

Shakhawat Tipu, né à Sandwip, vit à Dhaka. Il est un éminent poète, essayiste et rédacteur en chef du Bangladesh. Figure éminente du nouveau mouvement poétique bengali, Tipu s’est imposé comme l’un des principaux poètes de sa génération. Ses poèmes ont été traduits en grec, espagnol, italien, serbe, slovène, chinois et une autre langue. Il a publié huit titres de poèmes et un livre sur un célèbre sculpteur bengali Novera Ahmed et ses œuvres. Il a récemment publié deux livres de poésie bengali, Snayujuddha [Guerre froide, 2022] et Razar Kangkal [Le squelette du prince, 2020]. Tipu a édité Jatiya Shahittya (2008), un magazine de linguistique et de philosophie et Charalnama (2011), un recueil d’interviews des gens de la rue avec un dictionnaire subalterne et Tarka (2021), un magazine de théorie littéraire et culturelle. Ses poèmes ont été publiés dans de nombreux magazines et anthologies du monde entier. Il est rédacteur fondateur du magazine littéraire bengali pratidhwanibd.com.


Like is an eternity after the sunset desire.

White clothes
Color erased in the shadow of mom’s memory.

A sign is carrying memories of red history.

Nobody can see I’ve hidden the blue tears.

In the dream of waking up inside the drunk eyes!

Keeping in the whole silence is eternal meditation.

Shakhawat Tipu

Words, after life


What scream?
—Voice of the wounded!
Who is humming?
—Intensity of crying!
What is blowing?
—Stream of blood!

Have you been in a nightmare for so long?
—I saw the waste of life!

Whose is the child?
—Don’t know!
Where is her mother?
—Crying in the hospital!
Father’s name?
—A dead soldier!

She lost her left hand in the bomb attack
Right hand was blown off by the bullet
The left leg was crushed by the ceiling
She is kicking the world the right foot!

What happened then?
—Looking ahead to the future,
An ambulance blared a hydraulic horn
and drove away into uncertainty…

Shakhawat Tipu

Conversations of an Injured Witness

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