In which country farmers labourers all would be the great-hero
The people built happy home with sweet dream in bosom.
Anywhere in the world such a sweet country will not be traced
The grassy green fringe has set up-she is our Bangladesh.
The tree will give sweet fruit, if hungriness is felt
The rivers will distribute cool water, if thrust is felt.
There have much cool shade of green forest, if sleep is felt
Anywhere in the world such a sweet country will not be traced.
Laugh of twelve-monthly flowers, the arbor is filled with bee
All the day of the twelve months the sun is giving light
Where you will find the country of stars filled sky
One in worldwide, she is our Bangladesh.
In this country twelve months (you) will see moon’s laugh
In the vast field has only green; golden paddy, meadow grass
In which country the soft black hair is on all the peoples head
She is our motherland, the great heroes’ Bangladesh.
Into the chest of the great hero has fresh soft liquid
For that the oppressor’s crushed-machine was beard.
To take the ballad of torture in chest, (he) took swear
Hardening mind the enemy soldier would be crushed.
In seventy one the nation of hero sang holding arms
By killing enemy soldiers, honour of the country was kept intact.
Such people whose country brought liberation by singing song
To have written in history- is Bangladesh, Bangladesh.
Translation: Rudro Rasel
That’s all I feel
of my garden
-M Mizanur Rahman
I am regular to take care of my garden
With earnestness I weed out all the undesirables
from my favourite garden,
cause I love it most.
I watch butterflies
Swinging on the tower of the flower petals
Or on the young shoot of tender leaves
and flit at their sweet will
or some hornets or bees hum over there
to gather nectar, I feel
while watering the young plants like a father.
Some of them are brooding with budding flowers
And when the season of flowering and fruits
light my eyes,
The flowers of my garden suddenly glow
Like all the stars are glittering in my garden
and streams of them flow,
Who am I to pluck one of these flowers
of multifarious colours
hued magically magnificent ?
It’s my land, my Bangladesh a garden
full of flora and fauna
And they light in my eyes like stars of the heaven
And if someone plucks one of them
from its stem,
I feel of my sad people in my garden.
