Cold-stricken Dhaka

Cool spear pierces the heart of winds. I walk in the avenues
Moon's body wakes up on a new footpath
Hard shells of snails rock on the swing of memory
I cannot hide this naked body in the shells
I walk in the streets in barefoot for a handful of warmth
And hide from room to room like a fox
Nowhere remains some warmth, not even fire
Dhaka city also shrink like me in want of warm cloth
Won't you come back? Still you'll not come?
Warmth only remain in the body of feathered birds
Give me such warmth, cold Dhaka shall stretch its white wings
Fire of love will be kindled everywhere.

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