Classic Poem

We do not know where this journey ends
In the lush green meadow,
Or in the deserted quay of some perched river
Where skeletal remains of animals lie mixed
With the remnants of human bodies and burnt charcoal

We do not know whether floods
Will ever come to the rivers of this world
Or not.

And if such floods do come, whether they will
fertilise our fields, or carry us away
Our sins
And our helplessness.

We do not for what
Or for whom we are waiting
(Only perpetually feel
the physical and mental exhaustion.)
We do not know when angels will come...

[Translated by Gautam Barua]