Endow us with showers of natural words
Sparkling in the depth of hearts
But not merely in the pallid pages
Float our bodies in the rain
Not amidst the deluge of red sea
But among the faces enkindling
Lanterns of empathy and grace
I hallucinate the world dropping down
The ocean of blood 
Inundating cities and souls
In search of food one bargains for life
Falling into a dark ditch
Returning to eternal silence
This is not the land of black sky
Pouring the torrent of tears
This is not the land of black river
Flowing with a raft of bones
Fleeing uncertainties one seeks space
To breathe but fear chases
You and me to the boneyard
Sunrise signals a glimmer of hope 
Whereas muted multitudes
Throw up fury over savannahs 
Perhaps they cannot return home
Not ever can they trust a flower
That always allures but doesn't bloom
Someone waiting for a letter
Inviting them to a party of pariahs
Encounters red eyes on streets
While someone else siphons blood
A library of books with a beatific vision
Turns into a museum of skeletons
Skirting the possibilities of kinship
With words and insight and light
Does the tiny bird still sit
On the porch and sing mellow notes
Does the kid still dream of a land
Of everything and everyone
Where nothing burns or sinks
Perhaps it's time to plant a timeless tree
Drowning binaries of hostility
And scattering unalloyed seeds
But something certainly gets lost
When you translate your feelings
Words sometimes look pale and puzzled 
As if playing a game of chess
Still the world waits for the next dawn

Mohammad Shafiqul Islam, a poet, translator, and academic, is Professor in the Department of English, Shahjalal University of Science and Technology, Sylhet. Email: msislam-eng@sust.edu.