Politiculture Poem by Rahman Henry

Each and everyday, there goes on vengeance, soundful and silent
Each and everyday, at morning, there are sad news

With how many death you intends to full your bag,
Independence, to be the harvesting season in our paddyfields?

In my sleep too, I can hear: here, on the roads of
homeland and throughout Asia
The painful jumpy booms

Ah, gloomy days!
When would you take us again towards the labour room of dreams?