One Million aunts are dying for bread
One Million uncles lamenting the dead
Grandfather millions homeless and sad
Grandmother millions silently mad
Millions of daughters walk in the mud
Millions of children wash in the flood
A Million girls vomit and groan
Millions of families hopeless alone
Millions of souls nineteen seventy one
homeless on Jessore road under grey sun
A million are dead, the million who can
Walk toward Calcutta from East Pakistan
How many fathers in woe
How many sons nowhere to go?
How many daughters nothing to eat?
How many uncles with swollen sick feet?
Millions of babies in pain
Millions of mothers in rain
Millions of brothers in woe
Millions of children nowhere to go*
*The preceding extract, taken from Allen Ginsberg’s September on Jessore Road, is dedicated to the "memory" of Bangladesh JI leader Motiur Rahman Nizami who was recently executed for crimes against humanity.
Yours truly,
Bal
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