Because you will come,

The jobless farmers and laborers

Are waiting, on the verge of death.

Because you will come,

The entire middle class is being emptied out,

Turning poor and destitute.

Because you will come,

The economy has been ruined,

And the GDP is heading toward zero.

Because you will come,

Lost people are weeping out of the urge to survive,

Weeping and weeping still.

A country that has lost its youth,

A misguided nation that has lost its father,

A Bangladesh that has lost its history—

Sits waiting today:

When will you come?

Again, casting a shadow like an umbrella across the sky,

Sowing the seeds of glory in the soil,

Acting as a shield for the people

To grant them safety—

When will you come?

Clearing the horizon-wide land,

Leaving their own country,

The people of this global cottage

Are running astray.

Because you will come,

You will quench all the jealousy,

Destruction, and fire of wrath in humankind.

Restore the humanity of the people,

Restore the work of the people,

Return the attachment to their lives,

Return their dream of living.

In the theater of poetry,

There is today the sigh of emptiness,

The dialogue of life has vanished Into silent alleys.

Return once more

The writer’s independent pen, drama, song—

In the voice of the Baul,

In the tune of the Bhatiali,

In the soul of the lower delta.

Awaken once again

Rabindranath’s Bangladesh,

The rebellious Bengal of Nazrul—

Save this Bangladesh From the claws of the hyena.

Because you will come,

The endless sky will be your roof,

The earth your home,

And the people your walls.

Because you will come—

Still counting days in anticipation,

Wondering when this December will arrive—

And in December, you must come.

— Writer: Sachin Bangali, Columnist and Political Analyst