That dusty classroom of yours in the light of the setting sun,
In the silence of the library among many books,
I lost myself in the crowd of assignments given by you.
Sometimes I catches up with friends at the last table in your glorious canteen.
Sometimes ma'am got angry with me for my mistakes.
I skipped a lot of classes climbing your seven-feet wall,
Or the false excuses of stomachache...
I floated around in imagination some of your boring classes,
Sorry to say got very sleepy also.
I find myself a few hundred light years away from you,
Where the white writing on the black board is looking like a fallen Moon.
Dear University...
I am a timid student sitting on the very last bench in your classroom.
To whom the result of the marksheet is nothing but a number only.

© Hani
Written in Bengali by Subhajit metya.
Translated in English by Hanifa khatun.