(21 September 1972 / Jessore / Bangladesh)

My Poetry

Those who will go back to the cow-cart's civilization
and will go back to the civilization of hand-made palm-leaf's fan;

Those who want to cross seven oceans and thirteen rivers on foot
and want to fill up the the east and the west with the odors of corpses;

Those who will go back to illiteracy
and will go back to the spells of witches, talismans and superstitions;

Those who think `dogs are more faithful than men'
and trust on the fate-ghosts more than on struggle, slogan and procession;

Those who will destroy people's dwellings with bulldozers
and then on that debris will build up the palace
for foxes and boars;

for those idiots, my poetry as angry as cobra and
as ferocious as hyena, bear sad news burnt in fire.

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