Still here are some people
who love the darkness of nights
and love to go back to villages
with their wives and children.
At least at the departure of electricity
(Victory to load-shedding!) some people
climb the roof for free air and look upward
to the sky by mistake.
Still here are some people
who venture to purchase the books of poetry,
listen to Hemonta’s* songs,
stare at the starry sky
and groan ‘Mom! Mom! ‘ seeing her face
in a dream.
Still here are some people
who, seeing the axes and the woodcutters,
feel their hearts being heavy
with pain and disgust.
Still here are some people
who love trees,
love rivers
and extract pleasure from fertile women.
* a Bangali singer
