Days in Bangladesh | Sadat Khan / Sayeed Abubakar / Moom Rahaman / Tasruzzaman Babu / Tareq Hasan / Shikdar Waliuzzaman / Tasmina Hayat Khan
Ride
A ride took it up;
Something beyond and above,
A little too far
A little over the bar.
An opening so ‘fair’
Or ‘foul’ – down the road
words sprung forth
In tilt of the bus
In an evening, behind the glass.
The windows of the heart
let pass the air
A little to far,
A little over the bar.
A ride of a lifetime,
Pigments of words and rime,
Written in the celluloid
Of four-hour time.
There stands a tale
Of a ‘ride priceless’,
Moving out of center
To heal and bless.
Sadat Khan
My Earth Moves
My earth moves round my three kids round the clock.
I need no new stars more; they are my all.
No stream is so much sweet as their voice is;
No nightingale so soothing as their call.
I have seen no flowers on earth like them.
No gem I know as precious as they are.
Like hymn, day and night I recite their names.
Within me they stay, they don’t remain far.
Sayeed Abubakar
I am the Sea
Salts are in my tears
Salts are in my sweat,
You ought to call me Sea.
Moom Rahaman
Haiku
dew drops, grass gets wet-
two white feet walk on the grass;
I can’t turn my eyes.
Sayeed Abubakar
Dear Zephyr
O you, Dear Zephyr! Blow, blow, blow
Over the vill. that’s beneath the hill
Abutting my heart and opened hand’s claw
Never be stopped and never be slow.
Not be so hot, not be so chill
So that much comfort we feel
To lessen the heat of the sun’s glow
In a pleasant manner you have to flow
So please, dear zephyr! Blow you blow.
Tasruzzaman Babu
Migrant workers and street children
I do not sleep on eyes
Early action is away on leave
I have the luxury of back pain.
I did not question my race today
Abroad my identity?
Most of the walls are stained the conscience of the question
Minded as unwanted, what is the worst?
There is still the heart of the depression fall down.
Logo people tarite torn sail the way,
Common goal pursued by the will-o’-the-wisp
Children in memory of the way up the wall of the picture .
Children born faceless way, why?
Why is he silent, still did not answer
Human cruelty, not their distant
They are hated, god luck on the way out
There’s still retired, their running play.
Sometimes the station the station never seen Mohakhali, Jatrabari, Gabtoli intersection,
Look out the rotten dumps to drain the water heater,
Sometimes the traveler exile
Sometimes money Sadarghat two porters.
The way they address their shelterless
There is no guidance on the identity of their birth,
They are sitting next to dumps
The smell of rotten rice spread on the nose,
When fatigue, happiness nest don’t find
Do not fall asleep on the way to the park,
I space where foreigners with them.
Hard job labor malicious belly
I went down the road where there Pedestrian
Is next to the trash cans at them,
Nonra afternoon sat down with hand-goody
it does not smell like an owl.
There is no identity of their birth but spent the day
And so what I have received,
What is the way I walked Logo
Lived my life the ultimate curse.
When fatigue overheating on the labor body
Not finding the shadow of the vacation home
Fall asleep by the side of the road, with the head of bricks
And they do not mind, I
And do not be sad whisper, not torn,
I am a migrant worker, my identity
Today, the street children.
Tareq Hasan
Busy
Everyone is busy
I am not
I am free
Will you buy me!
Moom Rahaman
Shadowy God
Death valley lies in heart
Lifeless rivers claims urbanity, everywhere
Tired clouds, touch less, in the far
A sky touchy way meets another,
Peahens’ beds sound shocked written slogan!
Dark words take a secret glance
Shakuny’s eyes make my life a strange goal
I, omnipresent god of shadow go nowhere
Think my shadowy face dearest one.
Shikdar Waliuzzaman
Sound Of Love
Every love has its sound;
It creates and it breaks.
A foil stands like gray hound
Against it and tragedy makes.
But don’t worry, a dove
sings sweet and cares no gun;
What lasts on earth but love?
It removes darkness like the Sun.
With heaven it is bound,
To reach God is its goal;
Every love has its sound;
it’s the sound of winning a soul.
Sayeed Abubakar
Mirror
Come to me
I will show you who you are
Dont worry
I won’t tell anyone who you are
Be sure
If you want
You will find yourself inside me
Whatever you wish
However you think
I will reflect
It’s between us
Just come to me
Let me reflect you
If you want.
Moom Rahaman
Bid on my Love
Reaching at the top of the Himalayas, beholding a rose as red as purified celestial blood
I’ll promise to share even the last breath with you; even if my heart is filled by cloud;
Kneeling down at you, with no space backward between me and infinity, I’d bid my love
Priceless, but it’s my soul that can bid life for your redolent, pearly smile as pure as a dove.
Tasmina Hayat Khan
photos GMB Akash
