: Sadia Nazib | Wednesday, 01 September 2021 | Print
There was no coffin for the dead poet
the coffin of the dead poet has not been claimed
Drowned in redwater!
The poet was floating in the bath that day.
His heart pounded in excruciating pain.
There was a shadow of disbelief in the exploding eye.
They did not know.
hundreds of living poets unknown named
Would have been thrown into the hell of condemnation!
In their so-called trial!
Coffins were not allocated for the deceased poet
Floated in redwater
The group of white pigeons
The water of river Padma Meghna and Jamuna
The stream of tears fell in the voice of modulation
thirty-two number house has been covered
Time walks in halt repeatedly.
The poet’s heart was free from fear
Hailed the head up at high.
He knocked the poet’s bowed head on the stairs
Ah, dead poet!
Which river flowed in your arteries?
Why vein, cell to cell
The verses of Charyapada, mixed with ease,
The words of the Upanishads and the light of the holy book!
Why a poet? Why?
History has always been sharpened
in the blood of the heroes,
written mourning elegies;
Spartacus, Khudiram or Che Guevara
They didn’t like the coffin either.
We hanged Khudiram
We have killed Che
We made the heroes into slaves
The son of God himself with the power of forgiveness and verdict
but, he was crucified too, even then-
don’t understand that ‘work of redemption is not for us?
The last line of a long poem you wrote
Yet it is Bangladesh!
The last rhythm is Bangladesh!
The name of the last breath is Bangladesh
You drowned in redwater,
and floats in our artery.
then reached vein to vein,
when mixed with blood cells,
So you didn’t need a coffin.
Ah, dead poet,
You survived in our hearts
in history, and in the future
Yet, in your golden Bengal.
The poem has dedicated to Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujibur Rahman, the father of the Nation of Bangladesh, a tribute on his 40th death anniversary.
Translated by Faruk Ahmed Roni
Posted 4:09 pm | Wednesday, 01 September 2021
globalpoetandpoetry.com | Faruk Ahmed Roni
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