Society and the World

Fanaticism is not Religion!

Bullying, hypocrisy or fanaticism: that's not what religion is all about
According to all scriptures, fanatics are disciples of the devil: no doubt.
The one and only Creator of all: He is the loving Master ever;
That there is more than one Creator, no true religion can claim so; never.


Even then, partnership to God is attributed by Satan the smitten
Yet his judge is only God, no one else: in the Qur'an it is written.
Man can't be Satan's judge or try him; indeed, either to the Hell
or to Heaven, what human power can push him or propel?


'Guide only those who are lost' - this is a divine command,
Any wrongdoing even against the unbelievers: in the Qur'an it is patently banned.
Why do people sin, or why some go astray as human being?
Why some people come to this world handicapped, or without the power of seeing?


Why are some ever-destitutes, and some are ever-so-rich?
Why some always live in peace, while others are destined to trouble's ditch?
Which preacher or Mullah knows its mystery, please tell me
They have carried the load of scriptures - Qur'an, Vedas - like no more than a donkey.


Even to that wretched who did not call Him, as to the provision for his hunger,
Why God did not Himself deprive him, who can communicate to a scripture-monger?
His creation - like the open-wide sky - embraces all, none barred;
His air and wind flows everywhere: mosque, temple, or earth's every corner or yard.


On the basis of faith, the light of His sun and moon does not ever discriminate,
it comes to every home or nation; where does it cause any division or foster hate?
His rain comes in shower flowing in the field and yard of all the faithful,
His fire, water, air serve everyone - to the ingrate and the grateful.


His water brings the blessings of flower and fruit to the garden of every nation,
Who, yet, preaches hatred and division in His love's congregation?
No saint, dervish, yogi, a prophet or a messenger truly divine,
Ever reviled others' faith or religion - who isn't aware of this wisdom so fine?


Under the guise of religion, the bullies and the pretenders have a pact;
they stir up the ignorant mass as part of their vile selfish act.
They foster hatred and prejudice among different faith or nation;
these devils cherish power, while feeding themselves is their only preoccupation.


Under the guise of religious movements, these ugly faces
claim that, if in power, they will help their fellows, or that's how they make their cases.
Fame and medals of aristocrats these Zaminders, loan sharks, and filthy rich get
In reality, they care about none; on their own welfare their eyes are set.


All the wealth they amass, have they ever given anyone anything?
Has ever a homeless found shelter in their fancy, luxurious building?
In the name of nationality or religion, poison is what they spread;
These are poisonous snakes; Finish them - don't you dread!


One is not a believer who doesn't have tolerance or patience - a virtue so auspicious
They are gangs of demons, worse than titans or monsters - utterly vicious.



Those who are oppressors, they have no specific religion or affiliation,
They block people from the divine ray; these friends of darkness believe in no
reconciliation.


They bring agitation and hatred among people, and help break any relation,
They are monsters who snatch away others' food and water in disgraceful jubilation.
We must know that these people in their death's pang,
suffer in this life, as shame over their head does hang.


The ultimate Judge who has no partner, He
punishes whom in just a while, you will, yes you will, see.
We are poor, destitute, oppressed and weak!
To lead us astray those who incessantly tweak;
They breed discord, disturbance, and pursue their selfish fortune,
In the Qur'an God addresses these wretcheds: 'Turn into apes' to play their tune.


[Original: Gorami Dharmo Noy
Translation: Mohammad Omar Farooq ]

Equality


I sing the song of equality.

I sing of the country

Where fresh joys blossom forth in, the hearts of men

And budding life shimmers in their faces.

Comrade, nobody is king- in this land and none a subject.

There is no man here poor and abject

Nor is there any, full of riches and money.

Here some do not. eat cast off rice-sweepings

And some all the cream and honey.

No one bows down here before the horses feet,

Or in front of the motor-cars wheels.

Hatred does not spring up here

In whitemen's breasts

Whenever they see blackmen close and near.

Comrade, this is a place where all are equal,

Where the black and the white have no separate
graveyards,

Where they have no separate rooms for offering
their prayers.

There are no sentries or peons here,
Nor is there any police-troops fear.

This is the Heaven where there are no distinctions,

Where leaving aside all 'quarrels

Men have clasped other's hands as brothers dear,

Religion does not create differences in this place

Nor do scriptures raise any futile clamour.

The priests and padres, the mollah and the
moulvis

Drink water here from the same container.
Here the house of prayer for the Creator
Lies in the body and the mind.
Here His throne of sorrows
Is amidst the miseries of mankind.
Here He responds to men's calls
By whatever name ,they may choose to appeal
Like the loving and fond mother
Ever ready and alert to respond
To the call of her child,
Whatever name he may call her by.


Here in this abode of equality
Different ways of apparel
Do not give rise to vicious quarrel.
Here clothed in dusty costume
Men are satisfied and happy,
Here in this land peace and equality.


[Original: Shammyo; Translation: Kabir Chowdhury]

Equality


I sing the song of equality.

I sing of the country

Where fresh joys blossom forth in, the hearts of men

And budding life shimmers in their faces.

Comrade, nobody is king- in this land and none a subject.

There is no man here poor and abject

Nor is there any, full of riches and money.

Here some do not. eat cast off rice-sweepings

And some all the cream and honey.

No one bows down here before the horses feet,

Or in front of the motor-cars wheels.

Hatred does not spring up here

In whitemen's breasts

Whenever they see blackmen close and near.

Comrade, this is a place where all are equal,

Where the black and the white have no separate
graveyards,

Where they have no separate rooms for offering
their prayers.

There are no sentries or peons here,
Nor is there any police-troops fear.

This is the Heaven where there are no distinctions,

Where leaving aside all 'quarrels

Men have clasped other's hands as brothers dear,

Religion does not create differences in this place

Nor do scriptures raise any futile clamour.

The priests and padres, the mollah and the
moulvis

Drink water here from the same container.
Here the house of prayer for the Creator
Lies in the body and the mind.
Here His throne of sorrows
Is amidst the miseries of mankind.
Here He responds to men's calls
By whatever name ,they may choose to appeal
Like the loving and fond mother
Ever ready and alert to respond
To the call of her child,
Whatever name he may call her by.


Here in this abode of equality
Different ways of apparel
Do not give rise to vicious quarrel.
Here clothed in dusty costume
Men are satisfied and happy,
Here in this land peace and equality.


[Original: Shammyo; Translation: Kabir Chowdhury]

Equality


I sing the song of equality.

I sing of the country

Where fresh joys blossom forth in, the hearts of men

And budding life shimmers in their faces.

Comrade, nobody is king- in this land and none a subject.

There is no man here poor and abject

Nor is there any, full of riches and money.

Here some do not. eat cast off rice-sweepings

And some all the cream and honey.

No one bows down here before the horses feet,

Or in front of the motor-cars wheels.

Hatred does not spring up here

In whitemen's breasts

Whenever they see blackmen close and near.

Comrade, this is a place where all are equal,

Where the black and the white have no separate
graveyards,

Where they have no separate rooms for offering
their prayers.

There are no sentries or peons here,
Nor is there any police-troops fear.

This is the Heaven where there are no distinctions,

Where leaving aside all 'quarrels

Men have clasped other's hands as brothers dear,

Religion does not create differences in this place

Nor do scriptures raise any futile clamour.

The priests and padres, the mollah and the
moulvis

Drink water here from the same container.
Here the house of prayer for the Creator
Lies in the body and the mind.
Here His throne of sorrows
Is amidst the miseries of mankind.
Here He responds to men's calls
By whatever name ,they may choose to appeal
Like the loving and fond mother
Ever ready and alert to respond
To the call of her child,
Whatever name he may call her by.


Here in this abode of equality
Different ways of apparel
Do not give rise to vicious quarrel.
Here clothed in dusty costume
Men are satisfied and happy,
Here in this land peace and equality.


[Original: Shammyo; Translation: Kabir Chowdhury]

Eid Mobarak

After the lapse of a year
you have come, Eid,
having crossed many a desert
of hundreds of miles,
having caused many a tear to
be shed on many a sand-field.
You have brought from one of the seven
heavens a present to the door of the hungry,
the bliss of the flower-garden
to the forest of thorns.
And have asked the cup-bearer
to hurry up with the cup of wine.
The hawk-cuckoo sings on all sides,
the bride keeps awake without a
wink in the bridal chamber of midnight!
Flowers weep but where's the
flower vase?
There's no sleep for lover
in the distant land away from home.
He remembers only the smell, akin
to the dry land wetted by rain,
of the loose coiffure of his beloved,
the distracted braid of her hair
being at sixes and sevens!!
Tidings of joy came last evening at
signal from the second day of the moon,
the budding mind is boiling up
with happiness!
The shanai sings unto tune Ashabari.
The stone-hard mind has softened
in the smell of perfume,
minds are mortgaged to each other
today in debt without any document,
without any debt to bother about
Yazid, Hasan and Hussain are
bosom friends today.
Hell and heaven, flowers and fire
all fall for one another,
Shirin and Farhad are in each
other's embrace!
Leili has snake-like embroiled
Qayes in herself.
The lover in the arms of his
beloved closes his eyes in pleasure,
kisses around on cheeks,
the hell of revelry is ablaze,
Satan distributes cups of wine in heaven,
friends and enemies from the same assembly.
The field of Arafat is spread out
Today from village to village,
emperors and fakirs embrace
one another like brothers.



The two figures Lat-Manat hold on to
the Kaaba and dance.
The trumpet of Islam resounds today
through out the world,
there are no high and low - all men are equal,
nobody is another's king or subject.
Who are you, Oh noble man, a
Nawab or Badsha in the upper mansion?
You are a blot on all time; you
have been responsible for raising
doubts about Islam.
Says Islam, we are all for one another,
we are all brothers and shall
share joy and sorrow equally,
none of us has the right to hold.
Is it ordained for some people
to shed tears and for others to
light up the chandeliers!
And just two people to have princely
luck, millions to suffer from bad luck?
That is not the prescription of Islam.
So has Idul-Fitr ushered in the new dispensation,
you who are hoarding up, you should
give away all surplus,
you must have food to satisfy your hunger!
The cup of enjoyment boils over in your hands,
but those who are thirsty have a
share in the cup,
you must, a my hero, give them
and then enjoy profusely.
You must empty your heart and
make a gift of yourself;
you who are very calculating,
do not sit down to calculate!
Rather let your calculation
go wrong for once.
Today the wayward play the
teasing games in their hearts,
today even the ascetic is
reddened by kiss from Sayel and Laila!
Jamshed lives and demands
wine to drink.
Today I shall go about on the
streets crying: Eid-Mobarak,
a my friends, Assalam!
Today I shall distribute from
lip to lip the message of
flowers as sweetmeat for the day.
This is Eid, an occasion
for giving oneself away.
The Eidgah is red with the ardour of my gift!
Not the body but the



heart will give of itself to
everybody and make a martyr of itself.
[(Original: Eid mobarak; Translation: Basudha Chakravarty]

Eid Mobarak

After the lapse of a year
you have come, Eid,
having crossed many a desert
of hundreds of miles,
having caused many a tear to
be shed on many a sand-field.
You have brought from one of the seven
heavens a present to the door of the hungry,
the bliss of the flower-garden
to the forest of thorns.
And have asked the cup-bearer
to hurry up with the cup of wine.
The hawk-cuckoo sings on all sides,
the bride keeps awake without a
wink in the bridal chamber of midnight!
Flowers weep but where's the
flower vase?
There's no sleep for lover
in the distant land away from home.
He remembers only the smell, akin
to the dry land wetted by rain,
of the loose coiffure of his beloved,
the distracted braid of her hair
being at sixes and sevens!!
Tidings of joy came last evening at
signal from the second day of the moon,
the budding mind is boiling up
with happiness!
The shanai sings unto tune Ashabari.
The stone-hard mind has softened
in the smell of perfume,
minds are mortgaged to each other
today in debt without any document,
without any debt to bother about
Yazid, Hasan and Hussain are
bosom friends today.
Hell and heaven, flowers and fire
all fall for one another,
Shirin and Farhad are in each
other's embrace!
Leili has snake-like embroiled
Qayes in herself.
The lover in the arms of his
beloved closes his eyes in pleasure,
kisses around on cheeks,
the hell of revelry is ablaze,
Satan distributes cups of wine in heaven,
friends and enemies from the same assembly.
The field of Arafat is spread out
Today from village to village,
emperors and fakirs embrace
one another like brothers.



The two figures Lat-Manat hold on to
the Kaaba and dance.
The trumpet of Islam resounds today
through out the world,
there are no high and low - all men are equal,
nobody is another's king or subject.
Who are you, Oh noble man, a
Nawab or Badsha in the upper mansion?
You are a blot on all time; you
have been responsible for raising
doubts about Islam.
Says Islam, we are all for one another,
we are all brothers and shall
share joy and sorrow equally,
none of us has the right to hold.
Is it ordained for some people
to shed tears and for others to
light up the chandeliers!
And just two people to have princely
luck, millions to suffer from bad luck?
That is not the prescription of Islam.
So has Idul-Fitr ushered in the new dispensation,
you who are hoarding up, you should
give away all surplus,
you must have food to satisfy your hunger!
The cup of enjoyment boils over in your hands,
but those who are thirsty have a
share in the cup,
you must, a my hero, give them
and then enjoy profusely.
You must empty your heart and
make a gift of yourself;
you who are very calculating,
do not sit down to calculate!
Rather let your calculation
go wrong for once.
Today the wayward play the
teasing games in their hearts,
today even the ascetic is
reddened by kiss from Sayel and Laila!
Jamshed lives and demands
wine to drink.
Today I shall go about on the
streets crying: Eid-Mobarak,
a my friends, Assalam!
Today I shall distribute from
lip to lip the message of
flowers as sweetmeat for the day.
This is Eid, an occasion
for giving oneself away.
The Eidgah is red with the ardour of my gift!
Not the body but the



heart will give of itself to
everybody and make a martyr of itself.
[(Original: Eid mobarak; Translation: Basudha Chakravarty]

Eid, at the end of fasting of Ramadan

O heart, Ramadan has come to an end,
and the happy Eid knocks at the door for all,
Come, today give yourself away wholeheartedly,
heed the divine call.
.
Offer all your wealth and treasure
for the sake of your Benevolent Lord,
Pay zakat to awaken the dying Muslims,
from the slumber that they can't afford.


Come, O heart, offer your Eid prayer
in that sacred plain,
where valiant Muslims sacrificed their lives
and became martyrs, not in vain.


Let's forget today who is friend or foe,
and hold each other in caring embrace.
Let your love be the magnet
to bring the humanity to Allah's grace.


Remember those in perennial fast,
constantly in hunger and deprivation,
Share with the poor, orphans and the destitutes,
to make inclusive your celebration.


Pour into the bowl of your heart
the ambrosia of tawheed.
The Prophet himself might accept the invitation,
and come to join your feast, indeed.


O heart, with the very stones or bricks
that some people hurled at you all along,
build a wonderful mosque of love
with foundation, solid and strong.


[Translation: Mohammad Omar Farooq]

Eid, at the end of fasting of Ramadan

O heart, Ramadan has come to an end,
and the happy Eid knocks at the door for all,
Come, today give yourself away wholeheartedly,
heed the divine call.
.
Offer all your wealth and treasure
for the sake of your Benevolent Lord,
Pay zakat to awaken the dying Muslims,
from the slumber that they can't afford.


Come, O heart, offer your Eid prayer
in that sacred plain,
where valiant Muslims sacrificed their lives
and became martyrs, not in vain.


Let's forget today who is friend or foe,
and hold each other in caring embrace.
Let your love be the magnet
to bring the humanity to Allah's grace.


Remember those in perennial fast,
constantly in hunger and deprivation,
Share with the poor, orphans and the destitutes,
to make inclusive your celebration.


Pour into the bowl of your heart
the ambrosia of tawheed.
The Prophet himself might accept the invitation,
and come to join your feast, indeed.


O heart, with the very stones or bricks
that some people hurled at you all along,
build a wonderful mosque of love
with foundation, solid and strong.


[Translation: Mohammad Omar Farooq]

Day-Labourer


Your luxury cars are plying through the streets
And your big ships are cruising Over the Oceans.
The fast steam engines are running on railways,
The country is filled with plants and machinery:
Can you tell me whose contributions are all these?
With whose blood are your buildings
Painted red? Dismantle them and you'll find
On each piece of brick vividly written the names.
You may not know; but each and
Every grain of dust is aware of it,
The meaning of those roads, vessels, trains,
And of those decorative palaces.
The good days are coming soon:
Day after day your debts are being inflated
You must pay back those heavy debts.
Those who with hard labour broke the rugged hills
With hammer, shovel and pick-axe,
Their bones today are strewn 'on either side
Of those very roads. Those who, in order to render
You service, became day-labourers.
Those who covered their cherished body with dust
Only to carry you and your belongings,
They are indeed the real human beings,
they are the saints.
I sing their 'inner voice' through my songs.
Marching over their painful suffering breasts
The New Revolution will raise its new head.
You are reclining at ease
On the top of the third floor,
While we are rotting at the bottom;
Still you love to be
Addressed as 'My Lord'?
Absurd! That cannot be! !
The helm of this world must remain under
Those, whose mind and soul are soaked with
Sweet love for the motherland;
Those who journeyed with others through
The tiresome roads and covered their
Feet with dust; I shall pick up
That very dust from their feet and put it
on my head as a holy sacred offering.
Smeared with the blood of the pain stricken
Suffering humanity of the world
the new sun of the new Dawn is rising
above the horizon.
Break open today those ugly rusty doors
Of your narrow congested heart;
Take off those artificial garments of yours
Which look unnatural like coloured leather.
Look at the concentrated condensed air
Appearing deep blue in the sky,
Let them enter free in a frolicsome way



direct into your inner hearts -
Unlock all those obstructing clutches!
Let the entire blue Heaven fall down in our midst,
Let the moon, the sun and the stars shower on us.
Let all people of all times
and all climes come together
And stand up at the same confluence to listen to
The anthem of great unity under one flag-
If you torment here a single soul
The pain resounds in a crescendo
In the aggrieved hearts of all others.
Insult to a single person here means
Humiliating the whole of humanity
An insult to all of us.
Today is the day of upheaval
Against the heart-rending agony and pain
Of the great Human-beings of the world.

[Translation: Amir Hossain Chowdhury]

Day-Labourer


Your luxury cars are plying through the streets
And your big ships are cruising Over the Oceans.
The fast steam engines are running on railways,
The country is filled with plants and machinery:
Can you tell me whose contributions are all these?
With whose blood are your buildings
Painted red? Dismantle them and you'll find
On each piece of brick vividly written the names.
You may not know; but each and
Every grain of dust is aware of it,
The meaning of those roads, vessels, trains,
And of those decorative palaces.
The good days are coming soon:
Day after day your debts are being inflated
You must pay back those heavy debts.
Those who with hard labour broke the rugged hills
With hammer, shovel and pick-axe,
Their bones today are strewn 'on either side
Of those very roads. Those who, in order to render
You service, became day-labourers.
Those who covered their cherished body with dust
Only to carry you and your belongings,
They are indeed the real human beings,
they are the saints.
I sing their 'inner voice' through my songs.
Marching over their painful suffering breasts
The New Revolution will raise its new head.
You are reclining at ease
On the top of the third floor,
While we are rotting at the bottom;
Still you love to be
Addressed as 'My Lord'?
Absurd! That cannot be! !
The helm of this world must remain under
Those, whose mind and soul are soaked with
Sweet love for the motherland;
Those who journeyed with others through
The tiresome roads and covered their
Feet with dust; I shall pick up
That very dust from their feet and put it
on my head as a holy sacred offering.
Smeared with the blood of the pain stricken
Suffering humanity of the world
the new sun of the new Dawn is rising
above the horizon.
Break open today those ugly rusty doors
Of your narrow congested heart;
Take off those artificial garments of yours
Which look unnatural like coloured leather.
Look at the concentrated condensed air
Appearing deep blue in the sky,
Let them enter free in a frolicsome way



direct into your inner hearts -
Unlock all those obstructing clutches!
Let the entire blue Heaven fall down in our midst,
Let the moon, the sun and the stars shower on us.
Let all people of all times
and all climes come together
And stand up at the same confluence to listen to
The anthem of great unity under one flag-
If you torment here a single soul
The pain resounds in a crescendo
In the aggrieved hearts of all others.
Insult to a single person here means
Humiliating the whole of humanity
An insult to all of us.
Today is the day of upheaval
Against the heart-rending agony and pain
Of the great Human-beings of the world.

[Translation: Amir Hossain Chowdhury]

Day-Labourer


Your luxury cars are plying through the streets
And your big ships are cruising Over the Oceans.
The fast steam engines are running on railways,
The country is filled with plants and machinery:
Can you tell me whose contributions are all these?
With whose blood are your buildings
Painted red? Dismantle them and you'll find
On each piece of brick vividly written the names.
You may not know; but each and
Every grain of dust is aware of it,
The meaning of those roads, vessels, trains,
And of those decorative palaces.
The good days are coming soon:
Day after day your debts are being inflated
You must pay back those heavy debts.
Those who with hard labour broke the rugged hills
With hammer, shovel and pick-axe,
Their bones today are strewn 'on either side
Of those very roads. Those who, in order to render
You service, became day-labourers.
Those who covered their cherished body with dust
Only to carry you and your belongings,
They are indeed the real human beings,
they are the saints.
I sing their 'inner voice' through my songs.
Marching over their painful suffering breasts
The New Revolution will raise its new head.
You are reclining at ease
On the top of the third floor,
While we are rotting at the bottom;
Still you love to be
Addressed as 'My Lord'?
Absurd! That cannot be! !
The helm of this world must remain under
Those, whose mind and soul are soaked with
Sweet love for the motherland;
Those who journeyed with others through
The tiresome roads and covered their
Feet with dust; I shall pick up
That very dust from their feet and put it
on my head as a holy sacred offering.
Smeared with the blood of the pain stricken
Suffering humanity of the world
the new sun of the new Dawn is rising
above the horizon.
Break open today those ugly rusty doors
Of your narrow congested heart;
Take off those artificial garments of yours
Which look unnatural like coloured leather.
Look at the concentrated condensed air
Appearing deep blue in the sky,
Let them enter free in a frolicsome way



direct into your inner hearts -
Unlock all those obstructing clutches!
Let the entire blue Heaven fall down in our midst,
Let the moon, the sun and the stars shower on us.
Let all people of all times
and all climes come together
And stand up at the same confluence to listen to
The anthem of great unity under one flag-
If you torment here a single soul
The pain resounds in a crescendo
In the aggrieved hearts of all others.
Insult to a single person here means
Humiliating the whole of humanity
An insult to all of us.
Today is the day of upheaval
Against the heart-rending agony and pain
Of the great Human-beings of the world.

[Translation: Amir Hossain Chowdhury]

Day-Labourer


Your luxury cars are plying through the streets
And your big ships are cruising Over the Oceans.
The fast steam engines are running on railways,
The country is filled with plants and machinery:
Can you tell me whose contributions are all these?
With whose blood are your buildings
Painted red? Dismantle them and you'll find
On each piece of brick vividly written the names.
You may not know; but each and
Every grain of dust is aware of it,
The meaning of those roads, vessels, trains,
And of those decorative palaces.
The good days are coming soon:
Day after day your debts are being inflated
You must pay back those heavy debts.
Those who with hard labour broke the rugged hills
With hammer, shovel and pick-axe,
Their bones today are strewn 'on either side
Of those very roads. Those who, in order to render
You service, became day-labourers.
Those who covered their cherished body with dust
Only to carry you and your belongings,
They are indeed the real human beings,
they are the saints.
I sing their 'inner voice' through my songs.
Marching over their painful suffering breasts
The New Revolution will raise its new head.
You are reclining at ease
On the top of the third floor,
While we are rotting at the bottom;
Still you love to be
Addressed as 'My Lord'?
Absurd! That cannot be! !
The helm of this world must remain under
Those, whose mind and soul are soaked with
Sweet love for the motherland;
Those who journeyed with others through
The tiresome roads and covered their
Feet with dust; I shall pick up
That very dust from their feet and put it
on my head as a holy sacred offering.
Smeared with the blood of the pain stricken
Suffering humanity of the world
the new sun of the new Dawn is rising
above the horizon.
Break open today those ugly rusty doors
Of your narrow congested heart;
Take off those artificial garments of yours
Which look unnatural like coloured leather.
Look at the concentrated condensed air
Appearing deep blue in the sky,
Let them enter free in a frolicsome way



direct into your inner hearts -
Unlock all those obstructing clutches!
Let the entire blue Heaven fall down in our midst,
Let the moon, the sun and the stars shower on us.
Let all people of all times
and all climes come together
And stand up at the same confluence to listen to
The anthem of great unity under one flag-
If you torment here a single soul
The pain resounds in a crescendo
In the aggrieved hearts of all others.
Insult to a single person here means
Humiliating the whole of humanity
An insult to all of us.
Today is the day of upheaval
Against the heart-rending agony and pain
Of the great Human-beings of the world.

[Translation: Amir Hossain Chowdhury]

Day-Labourer


Your luxury cars are plying through the streets
And your big ships are cruising Over the Oceans.
The fast steam engines are running on railways,
The country is filled with plants and machinery:
Can you tell me whose contributions are all these?
With whose blood are your buildings
Painted red? Dismantle them and you'll find
On each piece of brick vividly written the names.
You may not know; but each and
Every grain of dust is aware of it,
The meaning of those roads, vessels, trains,
And of those decorative palaces.
The good days are coming soon:
Day after day your debts are being inflated
You must pay back those heavy debts.
Those who with hard labour broke the rugged hills
With hammer, shovel and pick-axe,
Their bones today are strewn 'on either side
Of those very roads. Those who, in order to render
You service, became day-labourers.
Those who covered their cherished body with dust
Only to carry you and your belongings,
They are indeed the real human beings,
they are the saints.
I sing their 'inner voice' through my songs.
Marching over their painful suffering breasts
The New Revolution will raise its new head.
You are reclining at ease
On the top of the third floor,
While we are rotting at the bottom;
Still you love to be
Addressed as 'My Lord'?
Absurd! That cannot be! !
The helm of this world must remain under
Those, whose mind and soul are soaked with
Sweet love for the motherland;
Those who journeyed with others through
The tiresome roads and covered their
Feet with dust; I shall pick up
That very dust from their feet and put it
on my head as a holy sacred offering.
Smeared with the blood of the pain stricken
Suffering humanity of the world
the new sun of the new Dawn is rising
above the horizon.
Break open today those ugly rusty doors
Of your narrow congested heart;
Take off those artificial garments of yours
Which look unnatural like coloured leather.
Look at the concentrated condensed air
Appearing deep blue in the sky,
Let them enter free in a frolicsome way



direct into your inner hearts -
Unlock all those obstructing clutches!
Let the entire blue Heaven fall down in our midst,
Let the moon, the sun and the stars shower on us.
Let all people of all times
and all climes come together
And stand up at the same confluence to listen to
The anthem of great unity under one flag-
If you torment here a single soul
The pain resounds in a crescendo
In the aggrieved hearts of all others.
Insult to a single person here means
Humiliating the whole of humanity
An insult to all of us.
Today is the day of upheaval
Against the heart-rending agony and pain
Of the great Human-beings of the world.

[Translation: Amir Hossain Chowdhury]

Coming of Anondomoyee

How much longer will you
stay hidden behind a clay statue?
Heaven today is subjugated by merciless tyrants.
God's children are getting whipped, heroic youth-hanged.
India today is a butchery-when will you arrive, O Destroyer?
God's soldiers are serving terms of hard labor exiled to desolate islands.
Who will come to the battlefield
unless you come with your sword in your hand?


[Translation: Sajed Kamal]

Coming of Anondomoyee

How much longer will you
stay hidden behind a clay statue?
Heaven today is subjugated by merciless tyrants.
God's children are getting whipped, heroic youth-hanged.
India today is a butchery-when will you arrive, O Destroyer?
God's soldiers are serving terms of hard labor exiled to desolate islands.
Who will come to the battlefield
unless you come with your sword in your hand?


[Translation: Sajed Kamal]

Coming of Anondomoyee

How much longer will you
stay hidden behind a clay statue?
Heaven today is subjugated by merciless tyrants.
God's children are getting whipped, heroic youth-hanged.
India today is a butchery-when will you arrive, O Destroyer?
God's soldiers are serving terms of hard labor exiled to desolate islands.
Who will come to the battlefield
unless you come with your sword in your hand?


[Translation: Sajed Kamal]

Coming of Anondomoyee

How much longer will you
stay hidden behind a clay statue?
Heaven today is subjugated by merciless tyrants.
God's children are getting whipped, heroic youth-hanged.
India today is a butchery-when will you arrive, O Destroyer?
God's soldiers are serving terms of hard labor exiled to desolate islands.
Who will come to the battlefield
unless you come with your sword in your hand?


[Translation: Sajed Kamal]

Come on Quick go to Madina

Come on quick those who wish
To the city of Madina to go:
At the Landing-ghat is already in
The sacred boat with virtues filled!


Abu Bakr and Umar Khattab,
Usman and All Haider,
They are the sailers true of the golden boat
No fear for you, sinners! No fear any more!


The Captain of this Boat is Ahmad.
The sailors all are seasoned hands.
Hearken to the chorus they sing:
There is no god but God!
No nervousness please
In this sea of sins
Despite the tempest
That may hoot and hiss!


Those who have the Fare of Faith,
Let them come to this golden boat;
Anchoring at the kalima's Port,
Trailing the Rope of Dispensation!
From the Hurs and Fairies in Heaven
For you all this invitation!


[Original in Bangla: Jabi ke Madinay; Translation: Mizanur Rahman]

Come Hither

Come hither, the 'fallen', the 'impure', the 'outcastes'!
Let us all worship The Holy Mother together!


Only when all castes and all nations
Assemble at Her feet, side by side without fear;
Only where we are not bound by temple, priest or scriptures
Can we properly worship the Goddess


Only when brothers sit side by side, worshiping together
Will she embrace those who call Her by name
Descending from Her throne in the heavens,
Sitting amongst us on the dusty earthly ground.
The Goddess' altar will become sacred only when
Her holy water is blessed by the touch of us all.


Because we have ignored Her true message,
Brother has turned against brother
Today, upon seeing the Goddess in Her full splendor,
You will realize that we are all children of the same Mother


And heaven, earth and the entire universe will erupt in awe,
Awoken by our invocation to the Holy Mother
Fearlessly chanted by all in unison.


[Translated by: Udayan Chattopadhyay]

Come Hither

Come hither, the 'fallen', the 'impure', the 'outcastes'!
Let us all worship The Holy Mother together!


Only when all castes and all nations
Assemble at Her feet, side by side without fear;
Only where we are not bound by temple, priest or scriptures
Can we properly worship the Goddess


Only when brothers sit side by side, worshiping together
Will she embrace those who call Her by name
Descending from Her throne in the heavens,
Sitting amongst us on the dusty earthly ground.
The Goddess' altar will become sacred only when
Her holy water is blessed by the touch of us all.


Because we have ignored Her true message,
Brother has turned against brother
Today, upon seeing the Goddess in Her full splendor,
You will realize that we are all children of the same Mother


And heaven, earth and the entire universe will erupt in awe,
Awoken by our invocation to the Holy Mother
Fearlessly chanted by all in unison.


[Translated by: Udayan Chattopadhyay]

Come Hither

Come hither, the 'fallen', the 'impure', the 'outcastes'!
Let us all worship The Holy Mother together!


Only when all castes and all nations
Assemble at Her feet, side by side without fear;
Only where we are not bound by temple, priest or scriptures
Can we properly worship the Goddess


Only when brothers sit side by side, worshiping together
Will she embrace those who call Her by name
Descending from Her throne in the heavens,
Sitting amongst us on the dusty earthly ground.
The Goddess' altar will become sacred only when
Her holy water is blessed by the touch of us all.


Because we have ignored Her true message,
Brother has turned against brother
Today, upon seeing the Goddess in Her full splendor,
You will realize that we are all children of the same Mother


And heaven, earth and the entire universe will erupt in awe,
Awoken by our invocation to the Holy Mother
Fearlessly chanted by all in unison.


[Translated by: Udayan Chattopadhyay]

Come Hither

Come hither, the 'fallen', the 'impure', the 'outcastes'!
Let us all worship The Holy Mother together!


Only when all castes and all nations
Assemble at Her feet, side by side without fear;
Only where we are not bound by temple, priest or scriptures
Can we properly worship the Goddess


Only when brothers sit side by side, worshiping together
Will she embrace those who call Her by name
Descending from Her throne in the heavens,
Sitting amongst us on the dusty earthly ground.
The Goddess' altar will become sacred only when
Her holy water is blessed by the touch of us all.


Because we have ignored Her true message,
Brother has turned against brother
Today, upon seeing the Goddess in Her full splendor,
You will realize that we are all children of the same Mother


And heaven, earth and the entire universe will erupt in awe,
Awoken by our invocation to the Holy Mother
Fearlessly chanted by all in unison.


[Translated by: Udayan Chattopadhyay]

Beware My Captain

You have to cross the darkness of the night
A desert vast and a hill of great height,
And an ocean, fathomless and dark.
Travellers, beware and look sharp.


The boat is trembling,
The water is swelling,
The sail is torn asunder,
And the boatman is losing his way,
Who will sit at the helm at this hour?
Who has the courage and the power?
The future calls your,
Come forward, all who are bold and true.


The night is dark, the storm is great,
You must look sharp, there is no time to hesitate.
You must make haste or it would be too late
To ferry the boat across the other side.
The night is dark, Be your own guard.
your, soldiers of the country,
Age old grievances have declared a fight,
The deprived heart is demanding its right.
You must take them along, the poor and the weak,
You must make them strong, no longer mild and meek


You must lead them to victory.
O Captain, my captain,
The helpless nation is going under water,
It does not know how to swim.
I shall watch tonight
Your determination, grim yet bright,
To free the country from slavery.
'Are they Hindus or Muslims? '
Who ask this question, I say.
Tell him, my Captain,
The children of the motherland are drowning today.


Doubts assail the mind of the travelers still,
There is thunder in the sky and danger over the hill.
Captain, will you lose the way
And leave us in the lurch?
You must not waver or sway,
You must carry on the march.


Those who sang the victory of life
With the nose of the gallows round their neck
Come and gather round quietly today.
What price do you pay for that, friends,
What sacrifice do you make?
It is a test, dear Captain,
Do you save the country or the cast at this hour?
The boat is trembling,



The water is swelling,
Beware, my Captain, beware.
[Translation: Kabir Chowdhury]

Beware My Captain

You have to cross the darkness of the night
A desert vast and a hill of great height,
And an ocean, fathomless and dark.
Travellers, beware and look sharp.


The boat is trembling,
The water is swelling,
The sail is torn asunder,
And the boatman is losing his way,
Who will sit at the helm at this hour?
Who has the courage and the power?
The future calls your,
Come forward, all who are bold and true.


The night is dark, the storm is great,
You must look sharp, there is no time to hesitate.
You must make haste or it would be too late
To ferry the boat across the other side.
The night is dark, Be your own guard.
your, soldiers of the country,
Age old grievances have declared a fight,
The deprived heart is demanding its right.
You must take them along, the poor and the weak,
You must make them strong, no longer mild and meek


You must lead them to victory.
O Captain, my captain,
The helpless nation is going under water,
It does not know how to swim.
I shall watch tonight
Your determination, grim yet bright,
To free the country from slavery.
'Are they Hindus or Muslims? '
Who ask this question, I say.
Tell him, my Captain,
The children of the motherland are drowning today.


Doubts assail the mind of the travelers still,
There is thunder in the sky and danger over the hill.
Captain, will you lose the way
And leave us in the lurch?
You must not waver or sway,
You must carry on the march.


Those who sang the victory of life
With the nose of the gallows round their neck
Come and gather round quietly today.
What price do you pay for that, friends,
What sacrifice do you make?
It is a test, dear Captain,
Do you save the country or the cast at this hour?
The boat is trembling,



The water is swelling,
Beware, my Captain, beware.
[Translation: Kabir Chowdhury]