Classic Poem

You also wake up like a devout woman
On your forehead move disarryed hairs
You breast blaze with burning love
Bangladesh, you fill our arable lands with
Golden harvest. As if our ancestors
Gave us rich and bushy weeds and
A great heart as big as the sky
You hace crossed a ocean of blood o Bangladesh
Your womb is covered with corpses, the wind
Have scent of gunpowder
When boots of …….. hits your soft soil,
As if breaks down beautiful plasters
And terracota plaques, Bangladesh
Every day you alter yourself into flower, bird
A green tree, a woman, A poem, You sing
A song of freedom, like a river
As I sing melodious stanzas of Rabindra Nath and Nazrul
I saw there’s no diversity between you and me
I also become a Bangladesh, when I wake up
Every day like a cold, cool rose of winter.