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:: The Shepherd Boy ::

This is the village and the  shepherd boy with his  long 
hair, 
Black  is he  like the vromor, but birghter than the red 
rose.
Like green paddy is the attraction of his innocent face,
And someone has added the freshness of green grass 
to that sweet innocence.

His hands are those as thin as the unripe Lao,
His skin is that as like the tomal tree of the shaon month.
His face is such as happiness resides there ,
As when a farmer smiles  amidst his puddy fields.

It is with this black eye that we see the colourful world,
It is with this black ink that we write the kitab and quran.
Birth is black and Death as well, and  black reigns all over,
And this black boy of this village has won all altogether.

He who makes the gold, let him proud in vain,
Give me this colour and I will draw a colourful rainbow.
Neither gold, nor silver nor any golden face,
This black boy with his black face give my heart a deep 
solace.
He is Rupai ,  but silver  is he not,yet more than that,
One day for his name , the name of this village will 
flash.      

[from Jasim Uddin's "Nakshi Kather Matt"]
Trans lated by Md Nazmul Haque
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