‎Survival Will Be Immortal History

‎Mesfakus Salahin

‎Bangladesh

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‎When will sweaty hands be able to say –

‎This homeland, river, forest is mine;

‎The head above my shoulders is unsold;

‎The sky full of stars above my head is mine;

‎The sun will cut through the darkness with its light;

‎The moonlight will be the ink to write my story?

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‎When will the newly born voice say –

‎There is no burden of debt on the head,

‎No bloodshed touches the map,

‎The fluidity of existence grows at will,

‎The largest budget in world financial policy,

‎I am not only the country’s, but the world’s greatest asset?

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‎When will the shepherd flute say –

‎The pure soul plays in my stomach,

‎The wind and the sea swell in the faintness of the melody,

‎The wounds of the river are just the artist’s paintings,

‎Childhood is not incomplete due to lack of water,

‎There is no shortage of money in human market?

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‎When will people say as human beings –

‎The color of our blood does not change,

‎Our hands are not severed,

‎The shepherd’s two hands are not withered,

‎The language of the heart is tied without a thread,

‎And the destination is one and the same?

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‎When will the arsenal be destroyed in the path of love,

‎The earth will be purified by the spread of humanity,

‎Shadows will be enchanted by the scorching heat,

‎Nature will not burn in the fires of aggression,

‎The atoms of love will flow in torrents

‎The power of arms be as sweet as a fountain?

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‎When will the horse of egoism stop,

‎The hydrogen bomb won’ t be made in the furnace of ego,

‎The smell of bullets won’ tt scar the rose’s chest,

‎The fertile time won’t be pierced by the shore of modernity,

‎The Alsaceian squad won’ t guard the breakfast table,

‎The rainbow will bloom at its natural pace?

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‎When will the trees absorb the essence of narrow-mindedness,

‎The violent palaces will become the huts of compromise,

‎Captivity will cultivate free freedom in blood,

‎The waters of the river will be transformed into love,

‎The history of division will be washed away by equal distribution,

‎Our survival will become an immortal history?

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‎When will the bond of friendship be sealed by the sails of a ship,

‎The boundaries of the ocean will not swallow the long flesh of the heart,

‎The word ‘our’ will belong to everyone,

‎Religion will depict the presence of heaven,

‎The body will become the bodiless soul,

‎The mind will become our pilgrimage?

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