Poetryzine magazine presents the selected poems by the Bangladeshi poet Masudul Hoq
Christmas Letter
Drowsy leaves of pine-
Olive forest-
December-snow has become the white page
Across Europe -
There, I'm writing a letter.
Letter, engraved on the ice
While my hands are getting frozen.
You are searching, on the way to Bethlehem
Walking and walking, many decades before.
Still I have no idea
If my letter, written on ice will reach the destination
Towards your country of pebbles.
Santa Claus
A colorful balloon
Keeps the girl awake
The winter moon gets sleepy, fall asleep
The reindeer of Santa Claus keeps flying
The girl with sanitized hands
Waits.
During this pandemic, will old Santa Claus come?
Christmas Tree
White bears are sleeping with the beauty of ice
Igloo – mound of ice cream.
The moon came, sat on the ice cream, in the light of the sun
Refugees are hidden in the forests of Serbia on such a night.
Solar energy on their chests, warms the ice.
The Christmas tree is watching with eyes of love.
Tired Jesus
The ice in December is melting with the virus fever
Only paracetamol is inside Santa's socks
The Christmas tree is fading
People are more sick with fever than cold
Winter outside, the warmth of the house is gradually increasing.
In the corner of the wall, the spider is
running in search of paracetamol in order to be rid of this fever,
at the parade ground under military supervisions.
People inside masks are as tired as Jesus hanging on the cross.
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