A procession there was,
Of glory resistance throughout.
Prideful heaped up silence
Of mountains, too,
Can break into pieces.
Blood writes a thousand unspoken words.
The fire that burns in the hearts
Also burns up the rubbish
That has gathered over centuries.
The chilling noise of the bullet
Hides itself in the air
Ashamed of its own vicious act.
Millions of eyes mirror the sky
Ablaze with a thousand flames;
No voice but blood,
Man’s holy blood,
Pours out words in thunderous silence.
I see today just once face
In the procession, as if
All faces of martyrs have
Transformed into the quintessential form in this
once face
Just one face is conspicuous
With courage and sacrifice written large on it.
This face in the procession
Is like a flag fluttering in the air
Holding up rights sovereign,
Sovereign like the sun.
Translation: Kabir Chowdhury
