Classic Poem

I wish I ate the ancient koi of Kurulia
fried especially by your own hand.
I wish sitting like a crow in the veranda of Munsi House
I enjoyed your scrubbing.

Would you say then, 'Who the bull there?'

Nobody realises more than me
the beauty of waves of your black hair
broken down on back.

Yet you waiving your hands
showed me the way to the city.

[Translated by Sayeed Abubakar from Sonali Kabin]

Translator's not: Koi: A kind of fish