Sk. Nurul Huda
The Garden And A Labour - Poem by Sk. Nurul Huda
I was walking in a well arranged soothing garden,
Suddenly met a carelessly dressed low paid labour,
“What are you doing” I asked.” Look me I am working, ” replied he.
“This is not a work of a labour normally do, ” again I disturb him.
Move this heap of soil to here, I asked. “Why? ”
He asked and did not offer the answer out of his wallet.
You may plant this compatible, sapling of gardenia beside the rose,
It would be beautiful... I suggested. “Hold your didactic tongue”,
He voiced. I know a garden in the other town this kind of arrangement
And all praise and really beautiful… you may follow.
“I want to work here. Do you want my dismissal?
I just follow and execute my Babu and his family’s choices,
As I work here for a long time I know very well what would be
Beautiful and befitting the shape of this garden… but
I dare not to reveal as my experience. I am well, I am a worker
A labor … I love my work…”
I fear …are we like the worker of our garden of words?
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