Fleeing the Golden Land
we have become (these)
on other shores –
peace does not come
for us
How is it, that somehow, we were able
to leave
home? We could not linger any more
When Arakan floats up – remembering – theses eyes
are mournful.
Oh these! – assortments and abundance of fruits, such richness we have
discarded – on the path to these other shores
no one asks about us,
everywhere there is speech – but
no one speaks                (about us)
Oh mothers and sisters!
Where can we go to achieve some peace?
Oh countrymen – (who calls like a flute)
where can we go
in search of solace?
I wonder inside so many fragments
my life(span)
When Arakan floats up – remembering – these eyes
are mournful.

Transcribed by Bilkis Akther

Translated by Shehzar Doja

Sung by Jani Alam

Poem from the book “I am a Rohingya” – Poetry from the Camps and Beyond