Swadhinata, ei shobdhoti kibhabe amader holo
Ekti Kobita lekha hobe tar joinna opekhkhar uttejona niye
Lokhkho lokhkho unmotto odheer bayakul bidrohi shrota bose achhe
Bhor theke jonosamudrer uddyan soikote-
'Kokhon asbe kobi?' 'kokhon asbe kobi?'
Ei shishu park sedin chhilona,
Ei brikhkhe fule shobhito uddyan sedin chhilona,
Ei tondrachchhonno biborno bikel sedin chhilona |
Tahole kemon chhilo sediner sei bikel belati?
Tahole kemon chhilo shishu parke, benche-brikhkhe fuler bagane
Dheke deya ei Dhakar hridoi mathhkhani?
Jani, sediner sob smriti muchhe dite hoyechhe uddyato kalo hat |
Tai dekhi kobiheen ei bimukh prantore aj
Kobir biruddhe kobi,
Mathher biruddhe mathh,
Bikeler birudhdhe bikel,
Uddyaner birudhde uddyan,
Marcher biruddhe march... |
He onagoto shishu, he agami diner kobi,
Shishu parker rongin dolnai dol khete khete tumi
Ekdin sob jante parbe- ami tomader kotha bhebe
Like rekhe Jhachchhi sei shresthha bikeler golpo |
Sedin ei uddyaner rup chhilo bhinnotor |
Na park na fuler bagan - esober kichhui chhilona,
Shudhu ekkhondo akash jherokom, serokom digonto plabito
Dhu-dhu mathh chhilo durbadole dhaka, sobuje sobujmoi |
Amader swadhinota priyo praner sobuj ese mishechhilo
Ei dhu-dhu mathher sobuje |
Kopale kobjite lalsalu be(n)dhe ei mathhe chhute esechhilo
Karkhanar theke lohar shromik,
Langol joal ka(n)dhe esechhilo jha(n)k be(n)dhe ulanga krisak,
Policer ostro kerhe niye esechhilo prodipto jhubok,
Hater muthhoi mrittu, chokhe shapna niye esechhilo maddyabitto,
Nimnomodhyabitto, korun kerani, nari, briddho, beshshya, bhoboghure ar
Tomader moto shishu pata kuranira dol be(n)dhe |
Ekti kobita porha hobe tar joinne kee byakul proteekhkha manuser |
'Kokhon asbe kobi?' 'kokhon asbe kobi?'
Shoto bochhorer shoto songram shese Robindronather moto dripto paye he(n)te
Ottopor kobi ese jonotar monche da(n)rhalen |
Tokhon poloke darun jholoke toreete uthhilo jol,
Hridoye lagilo dola,
Jonosomudre jagilo joar sokol duar khola -
Ke rodhe ta(n)har bojrokonthho banee?
Gonosurjer moncho ka(n)piye kobi shonalen Ta(n)r omor kobitakhani:
'Ebarer songram amader muktir songram,
Ebarer songram swadhinatar songram!'
Sei theke 'swadhinata' shobdhoti amader |
Independence, how this word became ours
'Cause a poem will be written, with eager excitement
Lacks and lacks of excited anxious eager rebelious audiences are waiting
Till dawn on the beach of the park that turned into an ocean of crowd-
'When is the poet arriving?' 'When is the poet arriving?'
This childrens' park was not there then,
This tree, flower adorned park was not there then,
This sleepy colourless afternoon was not there then |
Then how was the afternoon then?
Then how was, the childrens' park, bench-tree flower garden
Covered, this field, the heart of Dhaka?
I know, black hand was raised to erase the memory of that day |
So I see today in this poetless desolate plain
Poet against poet,
Field against field,
Afternoon against afternoon,
Park against park,
March against march .... |
O! unborn children, O! poet of future,
While swinging on the colourful cradle of childrens' park
You will know one day everything - I'm, for you
Leaving the story of that great afternoon |
Neither the park, nor the flower garden - nothing was there,
Only as the sky still today touching the horizon
Was there wide grass-filled field, green and greenish
The green of our freedom-filled heart mingled with
The green of this wide field |
Red-band around their head and wrist, they came rushing to this field,
The iron labouror from factories,
Plough and yoke on their shoulders, The naked farmers came in swarms,
The fiery youths came snatching the arms of police,
Death in their fist, dream in their eyes, the middle-class came,
Lower middle-class, sad clerks, women, aged, prostitute, vagabond, and
The children, as you are, the leaf collecting children, in groups |
A poem will be recited, is that the reason for anxious waiting by mass |
'When is the poet arriving?' 'When is the poet arriving?'
After hundred struggles of hundred years, in a Rabindranath-like proud steps
The poet at last stood on the people's platform |
Then in a twinkling, in a flush water flooded the boat,
Swing in the heart,
Tide in the crowd ocean, all doors are open -
Who will stop his fiery speech?
Trembling the platform of mass-fire, the poet recited the immortal poem:
'The struggle this time is for freedom,
The struggle this time is for independence |'
From then on the word 'independence' is ours |
-- Translated by Dr. Masum Z. Hasan (1995)
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K.M. Maniruzzaman's addendum:
For those who are not familiar with the contemporary history of
Bangladesh, the poet, or 'kabi', is Sheikh Mujibur Rahman, and the
poem or 'kabita' is his famous speech of March 7, 1971, a masterpiece,
in my view. The speech was delivered at the Ramna race course, which
has since been converted into a park (Ramna Uddyan). A part of it
has been made into a shishu (children's) park. There is no plaque
or anything to remind people that the speech was made there or that
the Pakistan Army had formally signed the surrender papers there on
December 16, 1971 (signed by Lt. Gen. Niazi and Lt. Gen. Aurora).
I hope these factoids would help appreciate the poem better.
Manir