Where symbol of peace the white-pigeons with pure joy
Fly to fly round to round recited you the lyrics of great victory
At last the sharp arrow of our cursed-eye were also there
On that day we all saw at the border of frightened eyes
Just hovered the hanging rope from the endless emptiness.
Even then we anyone couldn’t think ever by mistake
More overwhelming uncompromising than you
The call of thy deathless voice, that finger of Seventy One
Never could think shocked Bangladesh for father-losing mourn
Once again all of a sudden turn back to our face to face
Fishermen weaver blacksmith potter laboring people’s love
Forever you are the greatest leader greatest man undying Mujib.
The breathtaking agony of death was remainig for us
The pre moment of milding-behind deadly silence deep dark
The desire arises strongly to recognize simply the eternal truth
All time on the screen of afflicted memory would float
Father, thy gory body loving face thunder-voice.
To put head in thorax of icy-sleep thee are sillent wordless
Thou stone-eyes took a look to our exit way…..
We couldn’t accept the awful scene of that day
Hitherto that accents wasn’t tell anyone opened up mouth.
The streaming Padma Meghna Modhumotee Turag Titus Surma Jamuna
‘Shonar Bangla’ of Robi Tagore’s, eternal revolt Nazrul’s ‘Joy Bangla’
Ample field hurt sky of the ‘Ruposhi Bangla’ of Jibananando
Indifferent air crying muffled to muffled in Lalon’s Monochord
Forest of Fir, Charul trees you look we comeback to you
Father’s- soaked in blood dress.
-Translated by Rudro Rasel
