প্রবাসী মেলবন্ধনে Arslan Bayir (Turkey)
THE WOMAN AND HER HAIR
You promised when you left
You weren’t going to cut your hair
It would fall off your shoulders
Like a weeping willow,
It would cover your waist
It would be blown in the wind, strand by strand
It would hide our secrets
And it would be my pillow
In my dreams.
To your grape-black hair, woman?
You wouldn’t dye your braided hair
Did you afraid of growing old?
As your temples turn gray
You would say autumn has come,
You would only apply henna to your hair
What happened to your hair, woman?
Did your eyes lie?
Are you afraid of dark circles under your eyes
And of wrinkles?
But you would be just as beautiful anyway
If you hadn’t cut your earthy black hair
It would cover your cheek dimples
When you smile.
Was it too difficult for you
To compete against time?
Is a day worth a month?
There were months you were waiting for
I knew your pride, but I would ask you
To keep every strand of hair.
Year turns into months, months into days
A way it would be found,
I would run with the wind
With the clouds
And I would rain over you
I would fall out of your hair
To the exhausted lands
I would kiss your seed
Just like the ground kisses it,
Exactly the same.