The Dark Girl Poem by Bijay Kant Dubey

The Dark Girl



The dark daughter, what do you know about her,
The pains behind the smiles of hers,
Outwardly dark-complexioned,
But inwardly working and toilsome,
Which know you not,
I know it not.

The dark girl, the pains of hers,
The joys and sorrows of hers,
The world has not come to feel it,
The pains of hers,
The pains of her living.

Dark but beautiful,
With a figure and face-cutting of her own,
She lives in the joys and sorrows of her own,
The pains and pines of her own,
Her struggle and sacrifice,
What do we know about them?

The dark daughter,
The pains of hers the world knows it not,
The pines
Which maraud they the soul,
The heart of hers.

The dark girl, what to say about
Your pain and pine,
Struggle, suffering and sacrifice,
Your toil, tears and sweat?

The dark daughter,
Your dark colour and complexion,
Your dark beauty,
My introspection,
Which the world feels it not.

You go on labouring,
But what do you get instead,
Sobs, tears, blames, insults?
Rape, feticide and trafficking,
Domestic violence,
Threaten you, threaten you, dark daughter.

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