Shout By Hamid Rayhan
For Charlse Roy and Zafar Ahammad
Like in Mother-womb I grew up, I hid behind her
at the gloamlit light
Now, the summer-moon hoots at the man's sky
Mother hides herself behind the death-claw
my memory peeps from behind my filling station.
My memory sits on, sits on my thought-body
like snow falling and covering the hills
that a dawn still like a frozen slab slowly
melts warmth love drop by drop turning
into a stream; I blacken the onward sky.
The grow-up glitters of the moon's eyes
illuminate my silence
O dear, I grow up through it.
When I get its language I shall return
to your silence, armed-to give hidden meanings of yours;
Oh! Dear:
to your night
to your sins
to your diseases
to your insomnia
to your democracy
to your crows
to your armour
to your songs
to your apprehensions
to your suspicions
to your scriptures
to your happiness
to your wealth
to your curses
to your red-green flag
Nobody ever dies when they kill to pose truth,
only the blazing large views of a witness
to slaughter Mother and you.
To lose nothing do I have now, who fears
if see so off beat life is
my voice twists in anger, awaiting to explode
By Hamid Rayhan
Nobody ever dies when they kill to pose truth/// yeah; exactly beautiful expression from the behind the voice comes out in front of all situations to gripe the truth!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Nobody ever dies when they kill to pose truth, only the blazing large views of a witness to slaughter Mother and you... voice twisting in anger. a wonderful poem full of memories and emtions well expressed my dear poet. thank u. tony