The Voice of Hunger
In the hut of the poor, even dreams are halved —
Torn between sighs and silence,
Like broken lullabies caught in cobwebs of the night.
How long will words remain alive?
When hunger drapes the body like cloth,
And sleep drips from a leaking ceiling,
While dreams hang sharp — nailed to
You know…
Being a daughter…
Isn’t just about being born.
It’s about—
Carrying your own silence
Like a second skin.
Nisar Banbhan, a seasoned poet and writer, based in Karachi, the capital city of Sindh shares his poetry
Hailing from Village Mir Muhammad Banbhan, Taluka Mirwah, District
Walking Alone
You come from all directions
Always alone
You walk toward the opposite of your starting point
Not knowing when you’ll return
Walking alone, from childhood to old age
Then from success to failure
Coming from loneliness, and stepping into one’s own glory
Walking alone, humming
“What is it you really want?”
The thought, once stripped, is smiling.
I gaze at it for a long time.
Dr. Siyoung Doung, a poetess from Korea, shares her poems
Dr. Siyoung Doung graduated from the Department of Korean Language and Literature at Dongguk University and earned a Ph.D. in Korean Language and Literature
Sitting on one of the tables outside the restaurant, I watched people walking by and the trams coming and going, all while enjoying my meal.
As I observed this smooth public transportation system, I couldn’t help but reflect: why are people in my homeland left at the mercy of private transporters? Isn’t it the state’s
