Patience Poem by CMA Chandan Chatterjee

Patience
Chandan Chatterjee

Sitting all day with a fishing rod in hand
By the pond,
Return home with empty bucket
in the evening,
Is called patience.

Passing every day in the hope that
The new sun of tomorrow
Will bring a ray of new hope in the life,
Is called patience.

Father's hair becomes white
In the hope that
The son will earn after education,
Is called patience.

Mother keeps aside all of her
Hopes and aspirations and
Makes her son wise, intelligent,
Is called patience.

Widow mother goes to old age home
after son's marriage.
Open window, see far blue sky and green field
The horizon becomes small to her,
Is called patience.

It's seems to be five o'clock, afternoon
My baby came from the office,
Who give him tea-water, comfort,
Will prepare him for the next day's battle,
His western cultured wife
always busy with herself
my poor baby,
Their ten years old son is on boarding,
Is called patience.

Time is short, work is endless, so
Elections come once in five years,
There is no water in the tap, no food in the ration
There are no jobs for educated people,
There is no respect for the elders,
No social security.
There is only hope,
patience and commitment,
Is called patience.

We live in the hope once we must get
Honest leader for the country,
Doctors for diseases,
Good Teacher for education,
There will be no violence in society,
The difference between rich and poor,
black and white, struggle for existence.
will remove,
Is called patience.

A new sun, without any
pride and prejudice, without any religious and culture
will must come to us in a new way.
I sit patiently,
Hoping for that day.
The End