Be a tree

Get wet in sorrow's shower and you'll recover.

From envy's scorching sun gather strength

For then your trunk's fruits will ripen sweetly

And your leaves will clap in sheer excitement,

Shading all of your stretched out parts.

Truth be told, they are the world's first lovers!

Never ever fall in love with the birds

They'll eat your fruits only when the season suits them

During raging storms you may expose your body's cracks to shelter them

But don't expect anything in return for such gestures from the birds

For they will come to you only as they fly past you.

The fruits on your trunk will attract new birds for sure

But your enchanting branches aren't meant to shelter migratory birds.

Having rested in your shade, wayfarers will pick your flowers and leaves

Some of them will break a branch or two without any reason.

If such things pain you, no worries!

Don't collapse at the feet of such cruel wayfarers.

O tree, always, hold your head up high

And keep giggling in the southern breeze!

Quazi Johirul Islam is a poet who is currently residing in New York due to a job posting in UN Headquarters.

Fakrul Alam is Bangabandhu Chair Professor, Department of History, University of Dhaka.