Did I ever ask for it?
What would I do with manna?
Has it come in use to shake old age off
or stop death and evil news?
Did I not fast thinking of the hungry birds
And throw breads
in the evening sweet air for them?
Grass for cattle, banyan fruit under raven’s beak,
water near fish-gill to breathe-
you may want to provide.
What do I need manna for?
Rather give me enough poison,
as much as this country has given her people.
By hiding evil news in the coffin
let the immigrant air fill
with handful good news of the homeland
and three handful of scent of this soil.
* Original: A Bengali Poem by Rahman Henry
**[Translated into English by: Razia Pell]
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