Poem Hunter
(May 14,1969 / Narayanganj)


Time loves to hide its face in the gloom of past
In the glory of civilization it holds sorry distrust
Ashamed of having witnessed disgraceful grace
Present draws future to take part in marathon race.

Time is a wild bull that runs and runs and runs
Thin whisper of dust the spin of galaxy shuns
Insensitive, like love, eternally deaf and blind
All human hopes and aspirations trail behind.

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