New Exile Poemsby Tuhin Das
Translated from Bengali by Arunava Sinha
1.
I am a writer,
the light burns late
into the night in my room.
My friend cycles past my house on his way to work
at Casey Industrial Park at 4 AM.
When we meet he asks whether I could not
sleep last night because of thoughts of homeland.
2.
In the album on the bookshelf was a photo of
my father and me together,
beside a yellow taxi.
Behind us, the departure terminal
of Dhaka International Airport.
A friend said,
‘‘Where’s your mother? You don’t exist without her.’’
3.
It is the rainy season in Bangladesh now.
Three out of four parts of my country
are under water.
Outside the City Council Building
I saw the other day a teenager holding,
all by herself,
an environmental placard.
She’s our representative.
She wants a world everyone can live in.
Come, let’s all go stand next to her.
Listen to an audio version of this poem at Split This Rock’s website:
[image: A circular red play button is to the left of a red outlined sound
wave. The graphic is a link to the poem at Split This Rock’s website. The
audio version of the poem is below the poem text.]
*Image Description of Audio Graphic: A circular red play button is to the
left of a red outlined sound wave. The graphic is a link to the poem at
Split This Rock’s website. The audio version of the poem is below the poem
text.*