A_traitor_poet's_dream

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By Aranya Hasan Delwar

I longed for an afternoon of fagun fire,

I wanted - a blue sky with white clouds.

Under which I will walk the eternal path holding Priya's hand.

A loving hand will come and touch my hair.

Rain will fall from the spring sky.

I will say poetry while soaking in the rain

The rain water will fall after touching the two people.

I wanted to draw love by touching Priya's wet lips.

I could not be a lover in this social reality.

In a ten by ten feet room inside the jail

I am a traitor.

Social state mismanagement, eccentric behavior

On the side of oppressed people,

I stood alone for the helpless raped woman.

Above the frozen corpse of an innocent little child

I saw the tears of the father who lost his child;

I saw how many were crushed by the wheels of reckless cars

unfulfilled dreams,

I have seen the premature transformation of fetuses in the silence of the night;

The poet who protested,

I saw him inside the jail 10 by 10 feet

Inside the dark cell,

whose two eyes have not seen the blue sky for a long time,

I did not wake up to the chirping of birds.

State exploitation is on the rise.

From the streets to the streets, blood flowed everywhere

The tears of the rapist are accumulating in the sky.

One day it will rain, Ban will call the rain water

All wrongful mismanagement, occupiers will be washed away.

I will be rain - I will touch the chest of the sky and come down

I will soak the bloody wilderness;

I will be the Dakshina wind - Priya's thick black hair

I will get lost in the ocean

I will be a quiet innocent young man - the red rose

I will wait for love.

Fagun's fire will be noon - I will walk with open feet forever.

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©Aranna Hasan Delwar