Hakikur Rahman

Walking on the path

Today again in the same way
The movement started
In which border that I go
Dust clogged on the legs.

To what address do I have to go
I do not know
In which courtyard I have to stop
I have not heard before.

If walking, in this way
The destination remains unknown
Never there will be any stop on the path
At the bent of the nameless village.