If They Ever Come Poem by Rayhan Rhyne

'Some deaths slipping away from murderous shape
beholds our conscience;
makes the night profound;
then the calm soul sleeping
in the crimson bed of our body
for a moment splashes in the dark.”

Once in deep sleep I dreamt myself in the role of a distressed killer
Who has impulsively killed some housewife from his mother’s blood line.

From then on the man, the same me, has been running by the obscure limits of the river
Through the misty roads,
Roaming about Brahmagacha – Parmonoharay–
Not like any ordinary fugitive,
Like a man played by the strings attached to the fingers of
the mighty Nature.

It is my sandy path he moves on touching the rivers.
One fine day in such a path I shall meet him;
We would exchange our clothes standing face to face,
Change our bones, flesh and blood;
I would ask him, what are the things that he has done to be happy?

If ever, any dead arise to have his old life back,
Then, the pleasures of seeing many a sunset and endurance of unlimited suffering
I would share this leisure with them;

If they ever come asking for the life they have been robbed of!

(Translated from Bangla by Sabrina Karim)