Some Famous Poem by Kazi Nazrul Islam, the national poet of Bangladesh

Kazi Nazrul Islam was a Bengali poet, writer, musician, and is the national poet of Bangladesh. Nazrul is regarded as one of the greatest poets in Bengali literature. Some famous poem of Kazi Nazrul Islam in English translation is given below:

THE REBEL

(Original: Bidruhi)

Kazi Nazrul Islam

 

Translation: Kabir Chowdhury

 

Say, Valiant,
Say: High is my head!
Looking at my head
Is cast down the great Himalayan peak!
Say, Valiant,
Say: Ripping apart the wide sky of the universe,
Leaving behind the moon, the sun, the planets
and the stars
Piercing the earth and the heavens,
Pushing through Almighty's sacred seat
Have I risen,
I, the perennial wonder of mother-earth!
The angry God shines on my forehead
Like some royal victory's gorgeous emblem.
Say, Valiant,
Ever high is my head!
I am irresponsible, cruel and arrogant,
I an the king of the great upheaval,
I am cyclone, I am destruction,
I am the great fear, the curse of the universe.
I have no mercy,
I grind all to pieces.
I am disorderly and lawless,
I trample under my feet all rules and discipline!
I am Durjati, I am the sudden tempest of ultimate summer,
I am the rebel, the rebel-son of mother-earth!
Say, Valiant,
Ever high is my head!
I am the hurricane, I am the cyclone
I destroy all that I found in the path!
I am the dance-intoxicated rhythm,
I dance at my own pleasure,
I am the unfettered joy of life!
I am Hambeer, I am Chhayanata, I am Hindole,
I am ever restless,
I caper and dance as I move!
I do whatever appeals to me, whenever I like,
I embrace the enemy and wrestle with death,
I am mad. I am the tornado!
I am pestilence, the great fear,
I am the death of all reigns of terror,
I am full of a warm restlessness for ever!
Say, Valiant,
Ever high is my head!
I am creation, I am destruction,
I am habitation, I am the grave-yard,
I am the end, the end of night!
I am the son of Indrani
With the moon in my head
And the sun on my temple
In one hand of mine is the tender flute
While in the other I hold the war bugle!
I am the Bedouin, I am the Chengis,
I salute none but me!
I am thunder,
I am Brahma's sound in the sky and on the earth,
I am the mighty roar of Israfil's bugle,
I am the great trident of Pinakpani,
I am the staff of the king of truth,
I am the Chakra and the great Shanka,
I am the mighty primordial shout!
I am Bishyamitra's pupil, Durbasha the furious,
I am the fury of the wild fire,
I burn to ashes this universe!
I am the gay laughter of the generous heart,
I am the enemy of creation, the mighty terror!
I am the eclipse of the twelve suns,
I herald the final destruction!
Sometimes I am quiet and serene,
I am in a frenzy at other times,
I am the new youth of dawn,
I crush under my feet the vain glory of the Almighty!
I am the fury of typhoon,
I am the tumultuous roar of the ocean,
I am ever effluent and bright,
I trippingly flow like the gaily warbling brook.
I am the maiden's dark glassy hair,
I am the spark of fire in her blazing eyes.
I am the tender love that lies
In the sixteen year old's heart,
I am the happy beyond measure!
I am the pining soul of the lovesick,
I am the bitter tears in the widow's heart,
i am the piteous sighs of the unlucky!
I am the pain and sorrow of all homeless sufferers,
i am the anguish of the insulted heart,
I am the burning pain and the madness of the jilted lover!
I am the unutterable grief,
I am the trembling first touch of the virgin,
I am the throbbing tenderness of her first stolen kiss.
I am the fleeting glace of the veiled beloved,
I am her constant surreptitious gaze.
I am the gay gripping young girl's love,
I am the jingling music of her bangles!
I am the eternal-child, the adolescent of all times,
I am the shy village maiden frightened by her own budding youth.
I am the soothing breeze of the south,
I am the pensive gale of the east.
I am the deep solemn song sung by the wondering bard,
I am the soft music played on his lyre!
I am the harsh unquenched mid-day thirst,
I am the fierce blazing sun,
I am the softly trilling desert spring,
I am the cool shadowy greenery!
Maddened with an intense joy I rush onward,
I am insane! I am insane!
Suddenly I have come to know myself,
All the false barriers have crumbled today!
I am the rising, I am the fall,
I am consciousness in the unconscious soul,
I am the flag of triumph at the gate of the world,
I am the glorious sign of man's victory,
Clapping my hands in exultation I rush like the hurricane,
Traversing the earth and the sky.
The mighty Borrak is the horse I ride.
It neighs impatiently, drunk with delight!
I am the burning volcano in the bosom of the earth,
I am the wild fire of the woods,
I am Hell's mad terrific sea of wrath!
I ride on the wings of the lightning with joy and profound,
I scatter misery and fear all around,
I bring earth-quakes on this world!
I am Orpheus's flute,
I bring sleep to the fevered world,
I make the heaving hells temple in fear and die.
I carry the message of revolt to the earth and the sky!
I am the mighty flood,
Sometimes I make the earth rich and fertile,
At another times I cause colossal damage.
I snatch from Bishnu's bosom the two girls!
I am injustice, I am the shooting star,
I am Saturn, I am the fire of the comet,
I am the poisonous asp!
I am Chandi the headless, I am ruinous Warlord,
Sitting in the burning pit of Hell
I smile as the innocent flower!
I am the cruel axe of Parsurama,
I shall kill warriors
And bring peace and harmony in the universe!
I am the plough on the shoulders of Balarama,
I shall uproot this miserable earth effortlessly and with ease,
And create a new universe of joy and peace.
Weary of struggles, I, the great rebel,
Shall rest in quiet only when I find
The sky and the air free of the piteous groans of the oppressed.
Only when the battle fields are cleared of jingling bloody sabres
Shall I, weary of struggles, rest in quiet,
I the great rebel.
I am the rebel eternal,
I raise my head beyond this world,
High, ever erect and alone!

 

কান্ডারী হুশিয়ার! - কাজী নজরুল ইসলাম

 

দুর্গম গিরি, কান্তার-মরু, দুস্তর পারাবার 

লঙ্ঘিতে হবে রাত্রি-নিশীথে, যাত্রীরা হুশিয়ার! 

 

দুলিতেছে তরি, ফুলিতেছে জল, ভুলিতেছে মাঝি পথ, 

ছিঁড়িয়াছে পাল, কে ধরিবে হাল, আছে কার হিম্মৎ? 

কে আছ জোয়ান হও আগুয়ান হাঁকিছে ভবিষ্যৎ। 

এ তুফান ভারী, দিতে হবে পাড়ি, নিতে হবে তরী পার। 

 

তিমির রাত্রি, মাতৃমন্ত্রী সান্ত্রীরা সাবধান! 

যুগ-যুগান্ত সঞ্চিত ব্যথা ঘোষিয়াছে অভিযান। 

ফেনাইয়া উঠে বঞ্চিত বুকে পুঞ্জিত অভিমান, 

ইহাদের পথে নিতে হবে সাথে, দিতে হবে অধিকার। 

 

অসহায় জাতি মরিছে ডুবিয়া, জানে না সন্তরন 

কান্ডারী! আজ দেখিব তোমার মাতৃমুক্তি পন। 

হিন্দু না ওরা মুসলিম? ওই জিজ্ঞাসে কোন জন? 

কান্ডারী! বল, ডুবিছে মানুষ, সন্তান মোর মার 

 

গিরি সংকট, ভীরু যাত্রীরা গুরু গরজায় বাজ, 

পশ্চাৎ-পথ-যাত্রীর মনে সন্দেহ জাগে আজ! 

কান্ডারী! তুমি ভুলিবে কি পথ? ত্যজিবে কি পথ-মাঝ? 

করে হানাহানি, তবু চলো টানি, নিয়াছ যে মহাভার! 

 

কান্ডারী! তব সম্মুখে ঐ পলাশীর প্রান্তর, 

বাঙালীর খুনে লাল হল যেথা ক্লাইভের খঞ্জর! 

ঐ গঙ্গায় ডুবিয়াছে হায়, ভারতের দিবাকর! 

উদিবে সে রবি আমাদেরি খুনে রাঙিয়া পূনর্বার। 

 

ফাঁসির মঞ্চে গেয়ে গেল যারা জীবনের জয়গান, 

আসি অলক্ষ্যে দাঁড়ায়েছে তারা, দিবে কোন্ বলিদান 

আজি পরীক্ষা, জাতির অথবা জাতের করিবে ত্রাণ? 

দুলিতেছে তরী, ফুলিতেছে জল, কান্ডারী হুশিয়ার!

 

BEWARE MY CAPTAIN

(Original: Kandari hushiar)

Kazi Nazrul Islam

 

Translation: Kabir Chowdhury

 

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.

 

সাম্য - কাজী নজরুল ইসলাম

 

গাহি সাম্যের গান –

বুকে বুকে হেথা তাজা সুখ ফোটে,​​ মুখে মুখে তাজা-প্রাণ!

বন্ধু,​​ এখানে রাজা-প্রজা নাই,​​ নাই দরিদ্র-ধনী,

হেথা পায় নাকো কেহ খুদ-ঘাঁটা,​​ কেহ দুধ-সর-ননী।

অশ্ব-চরণে মোটর-চাকায় প্রণমে না হেথা কেহ,

ঘৃণা জাগে নাকো সাদাদের মনে দেখে হেথা কালা-দেহ।

 ​​ ​​ ​​ ​​ ​​​​ সাম্যবাদী-স্থান

নাইকো এখানে কালা ও ধলার আলাদা গোরস্থান।

নাইকো এখানে কালা ও ধলার আলাদা গির্জা-ঘর,

নাইকো পাইক-বরকন্দাজ নাই পুলিশের ডর।

এই সে স্বর্গ,​​ এই সে বেহেশ্‌ত,​​ এখানে বিভেদ নাই,

যত হাতাহাতি হাতে হাত রেখে মিলিয়াছে ভাই ভাই!

নেইকো এখানে ধর্মের ভেদ শাস্ত্রের কোলাহল,

পাদরি-পুরুত-মোল্লা-ভিক্ষু এক গ্লাসে খায় জল।

হেথা স্রষ্টার ভজনা-আলয় এই দেহ এই মন,

হেথা মানুষের বেদনায় তাঁর দুখের সিংহাসন!

সাড়া দেন তিনি এখানে তাঁহারে যে-নামে যে-কেহ ডাকে,

যেমন ডাকিয়া সাড়া পায় শিশু যে-নামে ডাকে সে মাকে!

পায়জামা প্যান্ট ধুতি নিয়া হেথা হয় নাকো ঘুঁষোঘুঁষি,

ধুলায় মলিন দুখের পোশাকে এখানে সকলে খুশি।

 

 

EQUALITY

(Original: Shammyo)

Kazi Nazrul Islam

 

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.

নারী - কাজী নজরুল ইসলাম

সাম্যের গান গাই-

আমার চক্ষে পুরুষ-রমণী কোনো ভেদাভেদ নাই!

বিশ্বের যা কিছু মহান সৃষ্টি চির কল্যাণকর
অর্ধেক তার করিয়াছে নারী, অর্ধেক তার নর।

বিশ্বে যা কিছু এল পাপ তাপ বেদনা অশ্রুবারি,

অর্ধেক তার আনিয়াছে নর অর্ধেক তার নারী।

নরক কুন্ড বলিয়া তোমা’ করে নারী হেয় জ্ঞান?

তারে বল, আদি-পাপ নারী নহে, সে যে নর শয়তান।
অথবা পাপ যে-শয়তান যে-নর নহে নারী নহে,

ক্লীব সে, তাই নর ও নারীতে সমান মিশিয়া রহে।

এ বিশ্বে যত ফুটিয়াছে ফুল, ফলিয়াছে যত ফল

নারী দিল তাহে রূপ-রস-সূধা-গন্ধ সুনির্মল।



তাজমহলের পাথর দেখেছ, দেখিয়াছ তার প্রাণ?

অন্তরে তার মমতাজ নারী, বাহিরেতে শা-জাহান।

জ্ঞানের লক্ষী, গানের লক্ষী, শষ্য-লক্ষী নারী,

সুষম-লক্ষী নারীওই ফিরিছে রূপে রূপে সঞ্চারী’।

পুরুষ এনেছে দিবসের জ্বালা তপ্ত রৌদ্রদাহ

কামিনী এনেছে যামিনী শান্তি সমীরণ বারিবাহ।

দিবসে দিয়াছে শক্তি সাহস, নিশিথে হয়েছে বঁধু

পুরুষ এসেছে মরুতৃষা লয়ে নারী যোগায়েছে মধু।

শষ্য ক্ষেত্র উর্বর হল,পুরুষ চালাল হাল,

নারী সেই মাঠে শষ্য রোপিয়া করিল সুশ্যামল।

নর বাহে হল, নারী বহে জল,সেই জল মাটি মিশে’

ফসল হইয়া ফলিয়া উঠিল সোনালী ধানের শীষে



স্বর্ণ-রৌপ্যভার,

নারীর অঙ্গ-পরশ লভিয়া হয়েছে অলঙ্কার।

নারীর বিরহে, নারীর মিলনে‌ নর পেল কবি-প্রাণ

যত কথা হইল কবিতা, শব্দ হইল গান।

নর দিল ক্ষুধা, নারী দিল সুঢা,সুঢায় ক্ষুধায় মিলে’

জন্ম লভিছে মহামানবের মহাশিশু তিলে তিলে।



জগতের যত বড় বড় জয়, বড় বড় অভিযান
মাতা ভগ্নি বধুদের ত্যাগে হইয়াছে মহান।
কোন রণে কত খুন দিল নর, লেখা আছে ইতিহাসে
কত নারী দিল সিঁথির সিদুর, লেখা নাই তার পাশে।

কত মাতা দিল হৃদয় উপড়ি, কত বোন দিল সেবা
বীর স্মৃতি স্তম্ভের গায়ে লিখিয়া রেখেছে কেবা?
কোন কালে একা হয়নি ক জয়ী পুরুষের তরবারী
প্রেরণা দিয়েছে, শক্তি দিয়েছে বিজয় লক্ষী নারী।
রাজা করিতেছে রাজ্য শাসন, রাজারে শাসিছে রানী,

রানীর দরদে ধুইয়া গেছে রাজ্যের যত গ্লানি।



পুরুষ-হৃদয়হীন,

মানুষ করিতে নারী দিল তারে অর্ধেক হৃদয় ঋণ।

ধরায় যাদের যশ ধরে নাক, অমর মহামানব,
বরষে বরষে যাদের স্মরণে, করি মোরা উৎসব
খেয়ালের বশে তাদের জম্ম দিয়েছে পিতা
লব কুশ বনে ত্যাজিয়াছে রাম, পালন করেছে সীতা!

নারী, সে শিখাল শিশু পুরুষেরে, স্নেহ-প্রেম, দয়া-মায়া
দীপ্ত নয়নে পরল কাজল, বেদনার ঘন ছায়া!
অদ্ভুত রূপে পুরুষ পুরুষে করিল সে ঋণ শোধ,
বুকে নিয়ে তারে চুমিল যে তারে করিল সে অবরোধ!

তিনি নর-অবতার-

পিতার আদেশে জননীরে যিনি কাটেন হানি’ কুঠার!

পার্শ্ব ফিরিয়া শুয়েছেন আজ অর্ধনারীশ্বর-

নারী চাপা ছিল এতদিন,আজ চাপা পড়িয়াছে নর!



সে-যুগ হয়েছে বাসি,

যে যুগে পুরুষ দাস ছিল না ক, নারীরা আছিল দাসী!

বেদনার যুগ,মানুষের যুগ, সাম্যর যুগ আজি,

কেহ রহিবেনা বন্দী কাহারও, উঠিছে ডঙ্কা বাজি!



নর যদি রাখে নারীরে বন্দী, তবে এর পর যুগে

আপনারি রচা অই কারাগারে পুরুষ মরিবে ভুগে।

যুগের ধর্ম এই-

পীড়ন করিলে সে পীড়ন এসে পীড়া দেবে তোমাকেই!

শোনো মর্ত্যের জীব!

অন্যরে যত করিবে পীড়ন, নিজে হবে তত ক্লীব!

স্বর্ণ-রৌপ্য অলঙ্কারের যক্ষপুরিতে নারী!

করিল তোমা বন্দিনী, বল, কোন সে অত্যাচারী?



আপনারে আজ প্রকাশের তব নাই সেই ব্যকুলতা,

আজ তুমি ভীরু আড়ালে থাকিয়া নৈপথ্যে কও কথা!



চোখে চোখে আজ চাহিতে পারনা; হাতে রুলি,পায়ে মল,

মাথার ঘোমটা ছিঁড়ে ফেল নারী, ভেঙ্গে ফেল ও শিকল!

যে ঘোমটা তোমা করিয়াছে ভীরু ঊড়াও সে আবরণ!

দূর করে দাও দাসীর চিহ্ণ, ঐ যত আভরণ!



ধরার দুলালী মেয়ে

ফের না ত আর গিরিদরীবনে শাখী-সনে গান গেয়ে।



কখন আসল “প্লুটো” যমরাজ নিশিথ পাখায় উড়ে’,

ধরিয়া তোমায় পুড়িল তাহার বিবর-পুরে!

সেই সে আদিম বন্ধন তব, সেই হতে আছ মরি’

মরণের পুরে;নামিল ধরায় সেই দিন বিভাবরী।



ভেঙ্গে যম্পুরী নাগিনীর মত আয় মা পাতাল ফূঁড়ি।‘

আধাঁরে তোমায় পতজ দেখাবে মা তোমারি ভগ্ন চুঁড়ি!



পুরুষ-যমের ক্ষুধার কুকুর মুক্ত ও পদাঘাতে

লুটায়ে পড়িবে ও চরণ-তলে দলিত যমের সাথে!

এতদিন শুধু বিলালে অমৃত, আজ প্রয়োজন যবে,

যে-হাতে পিয়ালে অমৃত, সে-হাতে কূট বিষ দিতে হবে।



সেদিন সুদূর নয়-

যে দিন ধরণী পুরুষের সাথে গাহিবে নারীর ও জয়।

WOMAN

(Original: Nari)

Kazi Nazrul Islam

 

Translation: Mohammad Omar Farooq

 

I sing the song

of equality;

In my view gender difference

is essentially a triviality.

Everything that is great in the world,

all the works, beneficial and good,

half must be credited to woman,

and to man half only we should.

All the vice or bad in the world,

and the pain or flowing tear,

for half, man should be blamed,

the other half only woman should bear.

Who belittles you as woman,

connecting you to Hell's flame?

Tell him that for the first ever sin

not woman, but man must carry the blame.

Or, it may be that sin or Satan

is in reality neither man or woman;

Satan is gender-neutral, so

it flows equally in woman or man.

All the flowers blossomed in the world,

and all the fruits grown,

isn't in beauty, nectar and fragrance of those

woman's contribution?

Have you seen Taj Mahal's marble?

It's spirit, have you seen?

At the heart of it Momtaj, woman;

outside is Shahjahan, the King and lover so keen.

The fortune of knowledge, or of music,

or, the fortune of all harvest,

woman's grace has made it so worthwhile,

flowing from every home and nest.

In the hardship of day and its scorching heat,

you can see reflection of man;

in the soothing breeze

and in peace of night, who shines but woman?

During the day she is source of strength.

She glows in affection at night;

when man needs comfort and love,

her grace and sweetness flow to make his life bright.

With man behind the plough,

the crop field became bountiful, indeed;

the greenery was only more beautiful,

as woman sowed the seed.

Man carries the plough, woman carries the water;

from soil and water mixed together,

the crop grows in abundance,

ears of paddy - like blooming heather.

Of course, the metals -

gold and silver: ordinary otherwise;

those become fancy jewelry

with woman's touch that underlies.

In longing for woman, or in her communion,

man found where the poets' hearts belong,

as his words became poetry

and sounds turned into song.

Man's present - the passion; woman's is affection -

with the communion that hungry loves entail,

comes the children - all magnificent

from man the great that even angels hail.

All the great victory of the world

and all the grand voyages,

gained grandeur and nobility from sacrifice of

mothers, sisters, and wives, throughout the ages.

How much blood man has offered

is recorded in annals of history;

how many women became widow -

No record of that - Is it a mystery?

How many mothers poured their hearts,

and how many sisters did serve?

the memorials of heroes - great or small

do not show that - do you not observe?

Victory hasn't kissed man's sword,

because of the valor of man alone;

the inspiration and pride woman brought

to men, that should also be known.

While king rules the kingdom

and queen rules the king,

the misery and sadness go away,

joy and happiness her grace does bring.

Man!

heartless, like a stone;

to make human out of him,

woman gave half of her heart as loan.

All the great celebrities, immortal -

whose fame knows no bound;

we celebrate in their memory

regularly, every year around.

They came to this world,

as at moment's passion they were fathered;

but Raam found shelter in jungle,

while all the care and nurture Sita gathered.

Wasn't it the woman who taught baby-'men'

love mercy and compassion?

Didn't she touch their eyes with kohl

as a shadow of her sad affection?

Man paid that debt off

in a very strange way;

holding on lap she who kissed him,

behind curtain and wall, she was put away.

Man the great;

Is he so, really?

who cuts open his mother's throat

at the command of his Muni father, bending his knee?

In the world's bed, half the deity: woman

just turned the side;

so far woman has taken enough,

now man will be confined.

Gone

is that age,

when man was the master

to enslave woman in his wish's cage.

This age is of empathy, of being human,

of equality is this new time;

no one would be the other's prisoner -

don't you hear that chime?

If man imprisons woman,

then the turn will come sure;

in the same prison he built,

he will rot and die without a cure.

Take this lesson -

a wisdom always right and true,

if you make suffer someone,

suffering will catch up with you.

Listen!

you the creature of this earth!

the more you oppress others,

your humanness? gradually, there will be dearth.

In the dungeon of treasure

with jewelry of silver and gold,

who confined you, O woman,

who is that animal with heart so cold?

No more agitation or bewilderment

to express yourself any more;

now you are timid, vulnerable, and

speak only from behind the wall or door.

You can't look eye to eye, and still wear

bracelet and anklets - the prisoner's symbol;

tear off the veil of yours,

unchain yourself, it has taken enough toll.

The veil that made you timid,

let that go away;

all those ornaments and symbols of servitude,

throw away, throw away.

Woman!

To this world precious you really are!

Don't roam in jungle or

to sing to trees you wander afar.

When did the Regent of Death come

flying on the wing of night's shade,

snatched you to captivity

in its dungeon where nobody can raid.

In that bondage of old time,

you are still living dead;

from that time world's light is stolen

and our vision is obscure in dread.

Come like a lightening, O mother,

breaking away from that pit;

your broken grass bracelets

will keep your path lit.

The animal, that is man's hunger -

at the fling of your leg,

will dropp dead at your feet, and

together, with smashed undertaker, will earnestly beg.

Your ambrosia all of us enjoyed,

now different is the need,

the hand that offered ambrosia before

to the monsters must now offer hemlock, indeed.

Not very far

is that cherished day,

when with homage to man,

to woman also homage, the world will pay.

MAN (HUMAN BEING)

(Original: Manush)

Kazi Nazrul Islam

 

Translation: Sajed Kamal

 

I sing of equality.

There's nothing greater than a human being,

nothing nobler!

Caste, creed, religion-there's no difference.

Throughout all ages, all places,

we're all a manifestation

of our common humanity.

 

'O Priest, please open the door!

A hungry god is at your doorstep

it's time for worship.'

Awakened by this dream

the priest rushes to open the temple door

with eager anticipation: His day might have

finally arrive! ! to get rich as a king

from the blessings that this god may bestow upon him.

Instead, there's this traveler-clad in rags, thin,

with a feeble voice, saying: 'Please,

open the door, Father-1 haven't eaten anything

for seven days!'

 

The priest slams the door on his face!

Turning around to continue on his journey

through the dark night

the hungry traveler says: 'This temple

belongs to the priest, 0 God, not to you! '

At the mosque, the mollah is overjoyed,

by the huge amount of leftovers of,meat and bread

from yesterday's offerings.

 

Just then a sickly traveler arrives at the door,

saying: 'Father, I have been hungry

for the last seven days! '

The mollah reacts: 'What a botheration!

You're starving? -Just go and dropp dead

in some cattle graveyard!

Besides-do you say your prayers? '

'No, Father,' replied the hungry man.

'That does it-out! ' shouts the mollah

shutting the door on his face,

holding on to the meat and bread.

 

The hungry man continues on his journey,

saying: 'I have lived for eighty years

without saying a prayer, yet you've never

deprived me of my food. But the mosques

and temples, O Lord-human beings have

no claim on them. Mollahs and priests

have locked all their doors!'

 

Where are you Chengis, Ghazni Mahmood, Kalapahar?

Smash the locked doors of these houses of worship!

Who dares shutting\the doors of the house of God,

who dares to put locks on them?

Open those doors-strike with your hammers & crowbars!

Oh, the house of worship-selfish, hypocrites

occupy their towers! –

 

Who are they-hating human beings

yet kissing the Quran, the Vedas, the Bible?

Snatch away those books from them.

The hypocrites pretend worshipping those books

by killing the human beings who have, in fact,

brought those books into existence.

 

Listen, you ignorants: Human beings

have brought the books,

the books never brought human beings!

Adam, David, Isiah, Moses, Abraham, Mohammad,

Krishna, Buddha, Nanak, Kabir-the treasures

of the world-they are our ancestors.

It's their blood that runs through our veins.

We're their children, kin-we're of the same body.

Who can tell? -Someone among us

may turn out to be like one of them.

 

Don't laugh, my friend-the self within us

is fathomless and infinite.

Do I-does anyone-know what greatness

may lie within that self?

Perhaps in me lies the Kalki,

and in you, Mehdi or Isiah.

Who knows what is one's limit or the origin!

Who finds what path to follow?

Whom do you hate, brother, whom do you kick?

Perhaps within his heart

resides the ever-awakened God!

Or pernaps he's nobody that important,

great, or of high esteem-but just someone

who's covered with filth, badly wounded and battered,

and burning with sorrow.

 

Yet, all the holy scriptures and houses of worship

are not as sacred as that one tiny human body!

Perhaps he'll father-in his house will be born

someone yet unmatched in the history of the world,

who'll deliver a message never heard before,

whose great power the world has yet to witness!

 

Who's he? An untouchable?

Why do you startle? He's not to be despised!

He may turn out to be Harishchandra or Lord Shiva.

Today an untouchable-tomorrow he may become

a supremely revered yogi-emperor.

You'll come to him with offerings, sing his eulogy.

Why do you look down upon a shepherd?

Perhaps he's Krishna in shepherd's disguise!

Don't hate him for being a peasant

he maybe Lord Balaram!

They're all bearers of eternal messages.

Everyday begging men and women

are turned away from the door.

How would I recognize

if Lord Bholanath and Girijaya were among them?

 

Just to avoid sharing a little of your sumptuous meal

with a beggar, you resort to your doorman-beating up

and chasing away a god!

But all that gets recorded-who knows if you're

ever forgiven by the humiliated goddess.

Friend, you're full of greed

with a blinder of selfishness over your eyes.

Otherwise you'd recognize the god

serving you as a coolie.

 

You, beast! To appease your hunger, do you want

to go on plundering the god within the human heart,

the nectar churned out of human pain?

Your evil gorge knows what appeases your hunger,

where in your palace is concealed your death-arrow.

Through the ages, your own desires

have dragged you into your death-holes.