(Translated by Rifat Munim)

I smell corpses rotting in the air to this day
I observe death's naked dance on the soil to this day,
I hear the hapless scream of the raped in my sleep to this day—
Has this country forgotten the night of horror, that bloodied time?
In the air floats smell of corpse
With blood is smeared the soil.
Those who once touched the brow of this land with a chest full of hopes
Have sought out forbidden corners in the pus of their tattered lives.
In love with a lightless cage, they stay awake in dark caves today.
As if it was a virgin mother, benumbed after her wretched birth,
Independence—is it then a wretched birth?
Is it then the shame harvested by that fatherless mother?
That old vulture has clawed at the nation's flag again.
In the air floats smell of corpse—
Still the curvaceous woman stirs up a deluge of flesh dancing in neon light.
Smeared is the soil with blood—
Still bones of starving people pile up in rice warehouses.
I can't sleep a wink. I can't sleep a wink all night—
All I hear in my sleep is the hapless scream of the raped
On the river water float rotten corpses like water-hyacinth
The headless torso of a girl, eaten away by dogs,
Stings my eyes—I can't sleep,
I can't sleep ...
Wrapped up in a bloodied shroud—eaten away by dogs, eaten away by vultures,
He is my brother,
She is my sister,
He is my beloved father.
Independence—they are the only dear ones left, after I lost everything to the war,
Independence—they are the priceless crops I harvested with the blood of my loved ones.
Sari of my raped sister—that today is my nation's bloodied flag.

Rifat Munim is an editor, journalist, bilingual writer, translator and essayist.