A CONGREGATION OF DYING BIRDS | The Daily Star
12:00 AM, February 09, 2019 / LAST MODIFIED: 12:00 AM, February 09, 2019

Poetry

A CONGREGATION OF DYING BIRDS

Mother-- please don't call me again at the end of day;

rather be in the forest with birds, days and nights.

By God, I couldn't be human 

though my father left me riches,

My inheritance at birth

Is all about being a Hindu or Christian

but never a human!

O Mother- your unworthy son

in a congregation of dying birds 

wearing anklets like children

prays for a glorious death!

Mother- with your keys you too 

unlock the chest – let the Earth turn red!

Translated from the Bengali by Mohammad Shafiqul Islam – poet, translator and academic – teaches English literature at Shahjalal University of Science & Technology.

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