Peace
for you and me
Is
that a small pond of clear water,
A
village tucked far away,
Laughter
of the children, cooing of the dove
And
chirping of the cicada ? Is that the trembling
night
As
blue as your eyes,
Brimful
and crystalline ? In other words,
Shadow
of the chignon, a flight
Of
green parakeet, a mosque
In
a sleepy village. Yet accursed
We
are picking the grains from the dust
Like
contented crows.
I
remember the painting
Of
the close and intimate wings of dove
Who
cares if costly or not ?
I
know that you and I and they
Belong
to one world,
Surnames
may differ;
They
may not even be human
But
surely not inorganic.
To
live with the righteous
I
say, is a curse.
Sanaul
Huq
(1924-)