A Cry in Wilderness
by Shahinur Islam
I have sold my golden afternoons
that removed my day-long weariness.
I have sold my disheveled evenings
that cherished in their hearts my dreams,
rehearsed in the lights and clouds,
in the breeze and in the drowsy grasses lit by eve-glow
to fly as the full-fledged bird of a new morning.
I have sold them
to the termites needed for survival of life.
Still I owe life a lot.
I turn to the night to regain the melody
lost in the evenings
to regain the forfeited classical symphony
of the heart.
But the night didn’t spare me time
to play the tune.
Rejecting me, it simply said,
“The time you want is a crying need for me, too,
just like breathing of an animal or a tree.”