Written by KAMRUL ISLAM

Your winter-colored sari indicates that you'll go
a long drive at the end of the night,
the persistent yellow of mustard field will appear
in the north sky...
Now the lamp of disappeared books and
furniture of your home does not fall asleep
under the canopy of agriculture...
We see nothing but some helpless bees
sitting at the end of the path with indivisible
management of trees...

A tale of a painting brush supersedes
the darkness of long-march for the sake
of blooming flowers of the next world...
Then the winds of the less-used street sing
the news of early morning
and our youth of feelings recollects
the unending zone of winter evening...