Sheikh Mujib Everywhere

Zafar Wazed
Even today the blood-stains of Sheikh Mujib in all our homes
That grotesque night burns like inferno in the wounds of chest,
The tired history of a sad, wasted end breaks down in tears, anger
The face of a brave Mujib floats on in the struggles of our lives.
Does anyone know what pain people in crores carry in their chests?
Suppressing that with hand, running breathlessly in bloodied Bangladesh
We return to an empty home fatigued by the sweats of wakeful night
The dreary soil breaks up into pieces ceaselessly in this barren habitat.
Even then in all our homes one Sheikh Mujib remains awake
None is there in this homeland stained with the wounds of heart
The flowers don’t blossom in gay wind carrying the memory of birth
The wailings only swell by the lamentations of a brave dark night.
We get back the vanquished land, a torn flag amid pains and cries
In our homes the endless courage of Mujib rise up even then
His blood corpuscles wake up by the care of dusk that breaks darkness
There are only songs of his sign in our flag, love of homeland’s soil
Articulations only on the tide of freedom, in sun, rain, toil and music.
On seas, fields, parks built with life’s labour, tied by the debt of blood
The dove of Mujib’s dream spreads the cloth of passionate love
In our homes on the flag of our soul his name flutters
A reverence emerges from the ceaseless waves that break all barriers;
Standing with the mark of blood on an Asian land stretching up to horizon
Even amid piteous cries and struggles the Bangalis sing the song of triumph;
Freedom therefore comes back home, revolutionary spirit gets colour
In our history, ups and downs of life, wakefulness, with golden hue
Extends across Bangali’s eternal soul – Sheikh Mujibur Rahman.