• Friday, February 27, 2015

Literature

Published Date: February 21, 2015
First Poem on Ekushey

First Poem on Ekushey

I have not come, where they laid down their lives Under the Krishnachura trees,                  to shed tears. I have not come, where endless patches of blood Glow like so many fiery flowers, to weep. Today I am not overwhelmed by grief Today I am not maddened with anger Today I am only unflinching                 ...

Published Date: February 21, 2015
Such A Wonderful Day

Such a wonderful day today, Nobody laments for the dead, none Fears death's grim face. A strange gleam Lights the weary body and face; in each footstep The glittering light of determination is aglow. As if they have signed their names       in Bengali On their own death-sentence; “I have taken up my mother from the dust                   to my bosom.” There have been Salam, Barkat and thousands                   of unknown names, They were their father's only hope, their mother's Last possession, someone's partner for life Or...

Published Date: February 21, 2015
All The People

All The People

All the people got united in a second, They anointed their sinews, ribs and muscles With a new-born pledge. The history of the land pulsates on the horizon                                 of time. Ekushey February is a fearless Journey On the road of consciousness, Ekushey February is a united being                    of a million men. Ekushey February...

Published Date: February 21, 2015
SUPRIYO

SUPRIYO

    Supriyo, my son, is too small To understand anything; Yet he too, wants to join in the chorus of Ekushey. With his tiny hands Wants to hang the bright posters of the day On the house wall. He comes running or still he stands And golden Hope dances on his two firm hands. Translated by K. Ashraf Hossain

Published Date: February 21, 2015
Come

Come, let us wrest our liberty, The liberty to speak, The liberty to place one letter to the right of another And make up words, The liberty to sing a hymn to life, The liberty to make a glowing utterance, Full of meaning and reason. Come, let us wrest with our strong hands The liberty to say something     one can see and touch, Something like flowers or birds or ships. Come, let us utter the word “Liberty”. No, no prayer at the altar of the Goddess of Muse, No, no gift from...

Published Date: February 21, 2015
EDITOR’S NOTE

EDITOR’S NOTE

A long time ago, when BTV was the only channel available, I remember watching a drama where some teenagers were planning a picnic on 21st February. They had been given the day off from college and decided to take advantage of the beautiful spring weather. Overhearing these plans, their politically conscious uncle gave...

Published Date: February 21, 2015
Men Are Not Rivers

Men are not rivers, yet in their hearts Burns the raging thirst of rivers. The youthful blood that was spilled in Fifty-Two With its tidal thirst suddenly becomes A river of humanity across the Dravidian delta; See how on its alluvial soil is slowly built An un-Aryan homeland, like a cascading stream The habitat of a vernal race. The language dearest to man lives on In the sound of the rivers. Translated by Syed Manzoorul Islam