The Wedding Mother Poem by Rakib Hasan

The Weeping Mother*
_By Rakibul Hasan_

Morning passed, evening came,
The whole day went by,
For her young son, a mother's heart
Weeps endlessly, without a sigh.

Bowing her head, when the mother
Went down in prayer to God,
Tears flowed from her eyes,
Flowing like a stream of blood.

She cried, "O Lord, hear my call,
Return my son to me,
For he is calling out himself
For his own mother, you see."

In the poor mother's world of pain,
Still rosary beads in hand,
The son's grief makes the mother weep,
Sleep escapes her in the dark land.

Will the poor mother's darling son
Ever return again?
The weeping mother breaks apart
In sorrow and in pain.

She screams throughout the night,
Keeping rice laid out for him,
Even in the darkest night
The mother waits, hopes dim.

Crying, crying, the mother dies,
When will her son arrive?
Under the blue, watery sky
She barely stays alive.

Six long months have passed today,
No news of her son,
The mother wastes away in grief,
Eating, drinking, none.

Walking, the child falls,
Then gets up once again,
Memories of the past today
Float in the corners of her eyes.

Coming home, the son asked, "Uncle, where's mother? "
"Wretched one, you've come so late,
Your unlucky mother has merged with the earth."

His face turned red then,
Rain fell from his eyes,
The son ran, ran, ran
As if God's creation dies.

The grave in the bamboo grove calls,
The son calls out, "Mother, O! "
"You died for me, let me touch
Your feet, just once more, though."

Wealth and money, everything's here,
But you are missing, that's all,
How will night turn into dawn, mother,
Without you, I can't recall.