Putting the finger in the eyes
Showering the chest of grace
Floods the all reserved dreams
To the straight direction
There is no abundant vessels
to catch the pearl drops of rain,
Seeping from the leaks of old roof.
What shall be accumulated
What is to be eaten
To fulfil the fiery hungerness of a meal
Another remains half starved!
Floods on the floor
And there smeared with mud,by being too much tired
Mother Seuty is sleeping-not quiet alone
In the amidst of her motherly heart
The two children of her own
huddle together for warmth
Looking at the face of starry moon
Sewing with the threads of dreamy land
Patching the cracked core of heart
Stands up with the resolution of revolution like the peepul tree ,
By getting bore and bore-worn out
But never fall down or turn over the side of fight.
Anchoring the hopes of growth
Expanding the fibrous roots
Still alive sailing the boat.
The life of poor is alike to the condition of bitterly cold
which shievers the bones of backbone.
In search of salt
They lose the preserving boiled food,
Soaked in water for the upliftment of their future.
Offline)
Comments8
Excellent poem!
sad undertone but realistic
I'm inclined to believe that within
the misery of the poor the true gift
of humility is born, yet a paradoxical.......*C
just sharing a thought
Have a wonderful day!
😊✌
I have translated this poem from an Assamese poem,originally written by Safik uz Zaman. .Sister he wants to hear from you something speial from you ..could you please tell something for him. ..
☺Thanks a lot for your precious comment!💕🖋💖
Superbly expressed - a great write.
Thank you so much Sir!
🙏👏🙏👏
2 more comments
thoroughly enjoyed but very sad
Thank you for your precious comment Sir!!
my pleasure in a strange kind of way.... still thoroughly enjoyed tho...
2 more comments
Sir,stay connected ...hope I will get much more appreciation from your kind heart!!
Very well written, you have translated what to me seems like a personal struggle - great read!
Thanks a lot !!
A lovely and poignant poem Mottakeenur.
Thank you.
Poverty is all around us. In London, the number of people sleeping rough in the streets continues to increase
When you see people in prestigious parts of London sleeping rough you ask yourself what is this world coming to?
Keep writing Fine B
After a long while...receiving your comment I am extremely happy...Keep Commenting!!
well written...
It's a long time since we met......It is the second time that I have received this comment for this poem!!I am extremely happy to read your comment!!!
I hope you get many more
1 more comment
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.