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Shahjahan Feb 2021
Here love blossoms
Here people come running frankly
Here the head bows in reverence
Here Bengali is the book of poetry.
Here is a fistful of hands in vows to remember the martyrs
Here the Bengali's roared
Such as Ekushey of Bahanna one day
Woke up.
The world has seen a lot of shots
Didn't see the language soaked in blood February!
Hyena's team is so brazen and so barbaric
Kari wants to take her mother's language
Salam-Barkat Rafiq-Shafiq Jabbar
The vigilant guard of the mother tongue poured out the ****** of the chest.
Then a Mujib at the front of the procession
Sheikh Mujib is at the forefront of history
Bengal and Bengali took the lead
Fifty-two sixty-two - we got the demand to survive
The days of seventy-nine fires have come
Bangabandhu got Bengali
Day of release ahead.
In nineteen years, Bengalis took the form of the liberation army
Twenty-one to seventy-one
Mujib gave the call - at the March racecourse
When he heard the shackle-breaking poem
"This time the struggle is for freedom" ...
The fort was built from house to house
The defeated Pak army looked at him with a smirk
The red-green flag flew over the open land of Bengal
The people of Bangladesh chanted the slogan in unison - Joybangla!
The world has never seen such a February, such a March, such a December of victory
Proud Shaheed Minar with red-green flag!
The poem Written by  Professor Nani Gopal Sarker
88 · Mar 2021
NOON CROW
Shahjahan Mar 2021
I don't write afternoon poems for a long time
But that crow came right to the cornice
Who says you are ugly black
You are the original color of creation
Like the great age
Aditya's expression every morning in that color book
There is so much light in the world.
You know in the end everything is deep black
Just like you
One day all the colors of the world are washed away
Just wakes up with the pain of losing
Black-black, blue absorbed in pain!
So I understand your sad Crow’s pain
Cruel chest-cracked screams
So understand and accept that you are the burden of Habisanna
I understand so I find you in the morning and evening
I find you in the intense burning of noon
I find you on the way to the pilgrimage.
You are deceived by the cuckoo of spring
The cunning fox deceives you
How colorful is the meaning of your ka-ka language
Only Bhatai knows how much caution
There is no other animal like you.
You are as you were.
Friend, you know pilgrimage -Salile Abgahan
Kalonman has become Tamal for you
Darkness has died for you
Mudibo eyes one day in your color
And friend bird, you can't be fooled!
WRITTEN BY PROF. NANI GOPAL SARKER

— The End —