Maquid Haider

If I Die Today

The town is a sick camp, I suppose.

                         Standing in rows

                          houses join in morning

                          moonlight trumpeting

                          on their heads—

                          and me ?

Under the subservient sun I pass my morning,

I pass my time with a pair of singing birds.

Grass in one hand flower in another,

days, not arrived, peep through my eyes again and again ;

and look, this very early morning funnily finds

the local girls leaving the sick camp

                     hand in hand with prostitutes.

The station heaves with a roaring rush

while a chasing train approaches quickly,

                      an urgent telegram as it seems to be.

If I die today, O my good neighbours,

please lift me up into a roam,--

                        in to a forbidden guard-room         

                                   Translated by Muhammad Nurul Huda

Maquid Haider (1948-)

Poet . Poetry : Rode Vije Bari Fera (1976), Apan Andhare Ekdin (1984).