-Sharmin Akhter
We are Bangladeshi children,
Like blooming flowers in the garden.
As they laugh and love each other,
We nourish the buds of loves among brothers and sisters.
Flowers grow, flowers bloom,
We are to grow young to attain age.
Flowers get dry and haste away.
We after youth meet senile decay.
Flowers haste away and new one back again.
We pass away but others return in chain.
Thus flowers go and come again and again,
In such a way forever like flowers we remain.
