For You, O Unborn

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For you I wait, O Unborn.

My dreams resplendent with hope.

Tiny shoes, toys, dolls … I hoard it all.

I hoard it all, even though it’s a waste.

Nightmares haunt me.

I see you.

“Why bring me into your wasted world?” You demand.  

“Do you want their jealousy to burn away my innocent face?”

“Their rage to destroy the fruit of your love?”

“Their lust to spew venom inside its tender flesh?”

The darkness is silent.

I forage for answers.

In vain.

And yet you’re my only hope.

In you, I dream to live. 

This is a loose translation of a Bengali poem “Onagoto, Tor Jonyo”, by Abhijit Debnath, originally published on the Prothom Alo Blog. Translated and published here with permission.

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