Faces And Masks Poem by Matin Bairagi

The burnt out sun rays of a devastated sky
Of this Century, have broken into pieces, as it were,
The inglorious time of history is speechless,
The rough terrain devoid of green is pitch-dark,
Standing on a solitary road, the faces look at an uncertain direction
And the masks only overlook them.
Or, is it that the faces keep awake in dire illusion
Hoping to play a newer tune of confidence,
The fingers touching the strings, will bring out a vibrant wave
From the depth of darkness for the lifeless play of alienation.
Today's confused man will look for a new day of bright dawn
And having collected the broken pieces here and there
Will count them one by one and pay their small debt,
Confident hands will wage a fiery movement to inaugurate the new
Man is heavenly; they never accepted defeat.



Translated by Prof. Dr. M Harunur Rashid