Old Women By the Sea

November 17, 2006


Bangladesh Three

Anwar Hossain




The old women come to the serious sea
with their withering shawls
and their fragile feet broken.


Alone on the beaches, they sit
without shifting their gaze or their hands
or the clouds or the


The ocean’s obscenity shatters and slashes
descends in a mountain of trumpets,
shakes a bullocks mustaches.


The matriarchs sit in their places, unmoved,
transparent, like ships on a sea,
observing the terrorist. waves.


The ocean is theirs, now,
the vacancy, freezing and burning,
the solitude crowded with bonfires.


They move in the fullness of time
from the once-fragrant houses
and the char of the twilight.


They see and do not see the waters,
they write signs with their walking sticks,
and the sea blots their signatures.


Pablo Neruda





Q.T. Luong


3 Responses to “Old Women By the Sea”

  1. On any other day I see waves bigger than sea,

    On any other day I wonder why so much chaos at the top of the sea and so calm inside the ocean.

    On anyother day why ocean of thoughts inside me makes so much noise that I can’t smell the sweet ocean.

    On some days I just stare at sea hoping my dreams come true.

    it’s just sea of hope where I am looking!

  2. kimtelas said


    The man who shows us the poetry of commentary.

    Thank you Suresh,


  3. i don’t get the poem help me out

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