[Dedicated to the dead rivers of Bangladesh]
Once these paths were rivers,
These fields the processions of water.
One day on these paths
The princesses used to go by the pea-cock boats.
On these paths with huge goods
The merchants used to move.
These paths were rivers,
These fields the processions of water.
In these fields, the silvery fishes
Touching the uprising waves, how nicely
Rolled up and down in the dark water!
Pedestrian,
Am I telling you a fairy tale?
Very beautiful poem representative of deep emotions that flow underneath like a river where dreams float like princess on a peacock-boat.Emotions dance to highs and lows like silver fish in dark water.Thank you for sharing such a marvelous poem.
Nature perserves the nature and we being a part of it for the sake of its beatification we destrored we put poison and still a slow poison is put by us we the self destroyer, and our end....Allah know better
wow, i like this poem. there are many have beens that young people never knew of and it is so nice that at least they would have a glimpse of those such as this fairy tale of yours.
But the nature prevails always. Thanks god! Well done Poet and thanks for sharing with us your poetry!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Thanks, dear Mirna Morgan. If you ever come in Bangladesh, you will find how true my poem is in the context of my dear motherland. We have lost almost all our big and small rivers.