Rezauddin Stalin
That cursed city
People sit like rocks
From the place he come from,
Forgets his name.
And can’t go to the destination
Everything changes including his shape,
And the soul jumps out of the pot of water as a cat
Breathing gives a pricking sensation in the nose,
The bullet shoots out of gun and pierce the heart
They laugh at each other’s danger
And draws an image.
Nobody of that cursed city
Understands other’s language
Signs and signals are intolerable
The goblets of pleasure with woman
Children are an extra-burden
The great Lord appears on the coin.
All hymns are worship to individual
All paths are Minotaur’s labyrinth
All vehicles are coffins
People jump into fire with added vigor than moths
Serpent breathes in the tune of music,
Even if Rome burns
Nero does not play his flute.
(Translated from Bengali by Anwar Hossain Manju)
(Rezauddin Stalin Bengali is a famous Bangladeshi poet and media personality. Born in 1962 in Nalbhanga village of Greater Jessore district, Bangladesh, he has received many national and international awards including Bangla Academy Literary Award. His poems have been translated into 42 languages of the world. His thoughts on various issues could be read in various media platforms.)
