| Monday, 09 August 2021 | Print
Where I was supposed to be born
I couldn’t be born there.
Such my fate and destiny,
I do not belong to a country.
My father did not belong to a country either,
There wasn’t such native called my father-motherland.
Such is my destiny,
I was born
On a bed of green grass
In another country; to another location.
The roof of the open sky over my head,
I didn’t know then night or morning;
I was not familiar with the moon and the sun.
I cried for the first time at birth and saw-
I am speechless, wordless,
The unknown mother tongue.
At a such silent hour
My arrival on earth.
Such is my fate, destiny,
Raindrops are falling
through the roof of the sky
Lying on a bed of green grass
I had my first bath
In the divine water of the sky.
I didn’t know the Qur’an,
I didn’t hear the bells or the Adhan.
I didn’t know what sin is;
But my birth is a sin
As am Arakan Rohingya.
So at the source of birth,
Bed of green grass!
Translated by Faruk Ahmed Roni
Posted 12:17 pm | Monday, 09 August 2021
globalpoetandpoetry.com | Faruk Ahmed Roni
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