I
wonder what’s native language of sorrow,
of
love,
of
pain
and
of war.
I
wonder what’s the native language
of
a river,
of
nudity.
In
what language does the deep foliage speak ?
Only,
whenever I stand at my door,
I
still hear the footsteps of the last civilized man,
somewhere
water begins to roll
and
the melancholy sound of water drenches
my
whole being
and
my begins to turn verdure.
My
body in green, whenever I stand at the door
I
hear chirpings of pet birds
and
the happy noise of children,
I
hear the laughter of lust
decked
in gold bracelets.
And
in that forbidden quarters where
gay
women lean against silent doors ;
What
language do they use in naked beds at
midnight ?
And
those orange girls going to school
tremble
and bleed at the first touch
and
I hear the sound of blood spilling down
But
I not know yet what’s the native language of
blood.
I
do not know what’s the native language of agony.
I
only know
I
am a man and in this wide world
my
native language till today is
hunger.
Translated
by M. Harunur Rashid
Abul
Hasa
Poet
and Journalist. Poetry : Raja Jay Raja Ase (1973), Amar Prem Amar Protinidhi
(1974), Je Tumi Haron Koro (1974), Prithak Palonka (1975). Awards : Bangla
Academy Award-1975 ( Posthumous ).