(Translated by Ashraful Kabir)
Hamdah village is never seen anywhere,
Shadow of the night-mist is in the flash of lightning
So, there never walked in that village
In the plain of distant summer light;
It coos on the way
Jalali-pigeons are in flocks
Everyday swift pigeons-
A flock of human-hearts fly back
In intimacy with love
The mortals on the banks of the lake
— Get crazy when they come near,
And confused villagers take betel-leaves
In weal and woe about quarrel and Qasida
in the bright red morning;
In the armed universe —
Sickness arises like a newborn,
Some people's mortgaged-children tremble in the
Language of stream.
After the separation of concordance
All paths cross one another
In Suitola and Mallikpur;
Going around like a madman
That road is very long and wide,
The green pain of many large Banyan trees
Is in the down
Rotating constantly,
To see me inside the cage
Revealing my secret name
It beckons
In infinite ninety-nine names.
[Note: Qasida - A laudatory, elegiac, or satiric poem in Arabic, Persian, or any of various related literatures; Suitola and Mallikpur - Places;]
( To be continued)
