Ruby Rahman, born December 3, 1946, is a Bangladesh poet and politician.
I DIDN’T KEEP MY WORD
Ruby Rahman
I don’t keep my word I don’t keep my word;
even to myself I didn’t keep my word
so I don’t keep my word with anyone.
Between my mother and me
there was only one word we understood,
that I wouldn’t giveaway heed to what my eyes and ears told me.
Filling the sky at dawn
with the one single word in the blue expanse
like an immense lotus with its petals opened wide,
I’ll fill up my room with one word such as this:
but I didn’t keep my word.
The word was: let mine and your and their children’s
blue cricket field
and the lines of those flushed faces
go unharmed. When blind headless time
stretches forth its hand like a ghost
we’ll instill courage and genuine sun:
but we didn’t keep our word.
We’ll give the word the office of chief queen,
we’ll give it the keys to the kingdom, we’ll give it the crown.
we’ll give mango blossoms, cuckoos and the first month of spring,
we’ll break the words into bits and make them up again.
In the darkness of the mine of words lies meaning,
a thousand and one meanings—I’ll make them leave home
and go outside in the sun;
but I didn’t keep my word.
I’ve given the word swathed in tears and blood
to parents and children,
to the wolf itself, to dreams and birds;
but I didn’t keep those words.