Crying Of The Hills Poem by Sabidin Ibrahim

There is little soil in the hills
No fertility, no crops
Naked they are now
Forced to leave the clothes from the whole body
So only red and dry soil comes out.
Don't want to live with this naked body
Want green hills, green trees
There will be fruits and flowers in the tree
The people of this land will become healthier.

But no, no rise in fertility
Eyesight flickering
Drying up-all the parts of the body
Wherever I set my ear
I hear only crying, crying of the hills
Cursed crying of the green land.


31-08-94
Crying of the Hills by Mrittika Chakma From (Akhono Pahar Kande, The Hill Still Cry)
Translated by Sabidin Ibrahim