Ithica, My Ithica Poem by Mohon Raihan

Ithica, my Ithica, is now in jail.
The state has sentenced her
for the offence of loving.
Today a wall stands between the two
of us.
I do not know, I do not know at all,
how she is in a small cell,
how she is spending her days there.

Shall we ever come together again?
Will our intimate embrace
and our blood and semen
give birth to a strong
healthy child?

At night the moon rises over
the betash thickets,
a flood of moonlight descends,
cicadas croon...
I cannot sleep,
and in the morning the golden sunlight
makes me restless.
Ithica, my Ithica, languishes
in darkness.

Yet I take heart,
I dream of stars.
I am full of hope that one day
I'll be able to batter down that wall
and hold her in my arms,
kiss her passionately,
and put her hair in wild disarray.

But I fear lest my Ithica gets lost,
if I fail to find her in any
prison cell or lock-up
or hospital or asylum,
if the bones of her violated body
and the skull of her head
are found beside a wall...
I cannot think, I cannot think,
I cannot bare to think
of that!
If anyone of you are an affectionate
father, an affectionate mother
a loving brother of a faithful lover
please come and stand by my side.

I shall crush that wall,
that prison-house.
and bring my Ithica out.
I shall etch the embryo
of a golden boy, the inevitable
product of our union

Ithica, my Ithica, is now in jail.
I'll bring her out,
I'll bring her out,
I surely will!