Courage and Strength

Don Quixote
The knight of immortal youth
at the age of fifty found his mind in his heart
and on July morning went out to capture
the right, the beautiful, the just.
Facing him a world of silly and arrogant giants,
he on his sad but brave Rocinante.
I know what it means to be longing for something,
but if your heart weighs only a pound and sixteen ounces,
there's no sense, my Don, in fighting these senseless windmills.
But you are right, of course, Dulcinea is your woman,
the most beautiful in the world;
I'm sure you'll shout this fact
at the face of street-traders;
but they'll pull you down from your horse
and beat you up.
But you, the unbeatable knight of our curse,
will continue to glow behind the heavy iron visor
and Dulcinea will become even more beautiful.
Translated by Taner Baybars

Touched by an Angel

We, unaccustomed to courage
exiles from delight
live coiled in shells of loneliness
until love leaves its high holy temple
and comes into our sight
to liberate us into life.

Love arrives
and in its train come ecstasies
old memories of pleasure
ancient histories of pain.
Yet if we are bold,
love strikes away the chains of fear
from our souls.

We are weaned from our timidity
In the flush of love's light
we dare be brave
And suddenly we see
that love costs all we are
and will ever be.
Yet it is only love
which sets us free.

Still I Rise

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.


Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.


Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.


Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.


Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own back yard.


You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise.


Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?


Out of the huts of history's shame
I rise
Up from a past that's rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.

These are not the only wonders of the world

When we come to it
We, this people, on this minuscule and kithless globe
Who reach daily for the bomb, the blade and the dagger
Yet who petition in the dark for tokens of peace
We, this people on this mote of matter
In whose mouths abide cankerous words
Which challenge our very existence
Yet out of those same mouths
Come songs of such exquisite sweetness
That the heart falters in its labor
And the body is quieted into awe

We, this people, on this small and drifting planet
Whose hands can strike with such abandon
That in a twinkling, life is sapped from the living
Yet those same hands can touch with such healing, irresistible tenderness
That the haughty neck is happy to bow
And the proud back is glad to bend
Out of such chaos, of such contradiction
We learn that we are neither devils nor divines

When we come to it
We, this people, on this wayward, floating body
Created on this earth, of this earth
Have the power to fashion for this earth
A climate where every man and every woman
Can live freely without sanctimonious piety
Without crippling fear

When we come to it
We must confess that we are the possible
We are the miraculous, the true wonder of this world
That is when, and only when
We come to it.

Reply to Comrade Kuo Mo-Jo

On this tiny globe
A few flies dash themselves against the wall,
Humming without cease,
Sometimes shrilling,
Sometimes moaning.
Ants on the locust tree assume a great-nation swagger
And mayflies lightly plot to topple the giant tree.
The west wind scatters leaves over Changan,
And the arrows are flying, twanging.
So many deeds cry out to be done,
And always urgently;
The world rolls on,
Time presses.
Ten thousand years are too long,
Seize the day, seize the hour!
The Four Seas are rising, clouds and waters raging,
The Five Continents are rocking, wind and thunder roaring.
Our force is irresistible,
Away with all pests!

Militia Women Inscription on a Photograph

How bright and brave they look, shouldering five-foot rifles
On the parade ground lit up by the first gleams of day.
China's daughters have high-aspiring minds,
They love their battle array, not silks and satins.

Loushan Pass

Fierce the west wind,
Wild geese cry under the frosty morning moon.
Under the frosty morning moon
Horses' hooves clattering,
Bugles sobbing low.
Idle boast the strong pass is a wall of iron,
With firm strides we are crossing its summit.
We are crossing its summit,
The rolling hills sea-blue,
The dying sun blood-red.

Chingkangshan


Below the hills fly our flags and banners,
Above the hilltops sound our bugles and drums.
The foe encircles us thousands strong,
Steadfastly we stand our ground.
Already our defence is iron-clad,
Now our wills unite like a fortress.
From Huangyangchieh roars the thunder of guns,
Word comes the enemy has fled into the night.

The Negro Mother

Children, I come back today
To tell you a story of the long dark way
That I had to climb, that I had to know
In order that the race might live and grow.
Look at my face -- dark as the night --
Yet shining like the sun with love's true light.
I am the dark girl who crossed the red sea
Carrying in my body the seed of the free.
I am the woman who worked in the field
Bringing the cotton and the corn to yield.
I am the one who labored as a slave,
Beaten and mistreated for the work that I gave --
Children sold away from me, I'm husband sold, too.
No safety , no love, no respect was I due.


Three hundred years in the deepest South:
But God put a song and a prayer in my mouth .
God put a dream like steel in my soul.
Now, through my children, I'm reaching the goal.


Now, through my children, young and free,
I realized the blessing deed to me.
I couldn't read then. I couldn't write.
I had nothing, back there in the night.
Sometimes, the valley was filled with tears,
But I kept trudging on through the lonely years.
Sometimes, the road was hot with the sun,
But I had to keep on till my work was done:
I had to keep on! No stopping for me --
I was the seed of the coming Free.
I nourished the dream that nothing could smother
Deep in my breast -- the Negro mother.
I had only hope then , but now through you,
Dark ones of today, my dreams must come true:
All you dark children in the world out there,
Remember my sweat, my pain, my despair.
Remember my years, heavy with sorrow --
And make of those years a torch for tomorrow.
Make of my pass a road to the light
Out of the darkness, the ignorance, the night.
Lift high my banner out of the dust.
Stand like free men supporting my trust.
Believe in the right, let none push you back.
Remember the whip and the slaver's track.
Remember how the strong in struggle and strife
Still bar you the way, and deny you life --
But march ever forward, breaking down bars.
Look ever upward at the sun and the stars.
Oh, my dark children, may my dreams and my prayers
Impel you forever up the great stairs --
For I will be with you till no white brother
Dares keep down the children of the Negro Mother.

Still Here

been scared and battered.
My hopes the wind done scattered.
Snow has friz me,
Sun has baked me,


Looks like between 'em they done
Tried to make me


Stop laughin', stop lovin', stop livin'--
But I don't care!
I'm still here!

Mother to Son

Well, son, I'll tell you:
Life for me ain't been no crystal stair.
It's had tacks in it,
And splinters,
And boards torn up,
And places with no carpet on the floor—
Bare.
But all the time
I'se been a-climbin' on,
And reachin' landin's,
And turnin' corners,
And sometimes goin' in the dark
Where there ain't been no light.
So, boy, don't you turn back.
Don't you set down on the steps.
'Cause you finds it's kinder hard.
Don't you fall now—
For I'se still goin', honey,
I'se still climbin',
And life for me ain't been no crystal stair.

The War Drum

O come, come along!
There sounds the war-drum
from beyond the vast deep.


O come, come along!
Islam is about to die.
The devils have taken over,
they brag and rejoice,
they crush under their feet
the skulls of martyrs.


O come, come along! Die if you must,
but let not your manhood be disgraced!
Grab the crest of the gale
in the iron fist of a Muslim,
sound the horn and unfurl the flag.
The heroes are eager to fight,
listen not to the soft words of the cowards!
Your honour and life are at stake today!


O come, come along!
There sounds the war-drum
from beyond the vast deep.


O come, come along!
There you can hear the ringing of the weapons!
Alas, how can one stay away
and tolerate this disgrace?
O come, come along!


Your brothers look at you
with pensive eyes.
Oh, how ashamed it makes me feel!
Won't the sword flash out yet
in your hands?


Won't the flood in your veins
dance with joy
as you hear the war-drums beat?
O come, come along!


We are vigorous and full of life,
In our hands alone does the sword
find a fitting place!
Ignoble are they who fall in a faint
and kiss the ground with chains
around their neck. How dare a cur kick at a lion?
Will an elephant be moulded by a jackal?
There you can hear the ringing of the weapons
O come, come along!


There sound the war-drums, t



here sound the battle-cries!
There the lion-hearted heroes roar!
O come, come along!
Give up all sadness of the mind,
abandon your chest of wealth,
take up arms, and let your heart beat
with a noble rage!


O come, come along,
dance with joy, and fight for justice and truth!
come, brother, give up your life today
in the name of Allah!
See how the battle-cry of Faith
resound throughout the earth and the sky!
Hear the roars go up:
'No giving up today
Only taking over! '
Be ready now for the supreme sacrifice! .


Oh, all glory is about to disappear!
O come, come along!
There you can hear the ringing of the arms,
there you can hear the war-drums beat!
O come, come along!


Don your battle dress!
Will you hide your face in shame?
How far is the land
where everyday heroes celebrate
the festival of death
and spill gaily the blood of the foe?
Put on the attire of the brave
and rush to the land of those heroic people.
Today men of a captive land
go to secure the freedom of a free country!


O come, come along!
Say: Long live truth!
Long live the heroic and the noble!
Let the timids die!


As women hear the war-drums beat
they too laugh happily and clap their hands,
they too rush to the battle-field!
We want to fight!
We want to fight!


So beat the drum,
put your helmet on,
hold aloft the sword in your hand
For justice and truth we fight,
clad in crimson clothes are we!



O come, come along!
There sound the war-drums,
there they don the battle-dress!
O come, come along
There the bugler sounds the call for war
at the door of the seige,
there the canons break out in a song!
O come, come along!
There sound the war-drums,
there sound the battle-cries!
Come, raise your voice now
like the great Hazrat Ali's,
there is nothing to fear!


You will surely slay the false giant,
you will surely make truth prevail!
Have no fear as you march along
to kill your foe!


We are bold and fearless,
there is no timidity in our blood.
Holding high the standard of truth and justice
we shall destroy tile tyrants.
We are invincible,
we are full of love;
yet we can bear at ease our chest
before the sword!


The fighters are we,
we he long to the breed of real martyrs,
we gladly embrace death
fighting the tyrants.
Smilingly we receive the thrust
of the sword
On our breast.


We sing the victory of Freedom!
O come, come along!
There sound the war-drums
from beyond the vast deep! !


[Translation: Kabir Chowdhury]

The Resurgence (Islamic Lyric)

There sounds the drum!
There on the ruined tower, dark and blank,
Flutters the once-mighty flag.
Raise your head, mussalmans,
Gird your loins and advance
The call of the New Age has come.


With the Kalma on your lips
And the sabre swinging against your hips,
With the fiery enthusiasm of Islam ill your
Shake off your lethargy and start.
With the love of Allah in your soul
Answer the call and take up your role.


There is nothing for you to dread.
You have that glorious amulet,
The Holy Quran, tied round your neck.
A pity that you overslept
And missed the Fazr prayer.
Neither did you awaken
When the Zohr did beckon.
And the Asr prayer you whiled away
In idleness and play.
The call for the Mughrib has also sounded.
You must hurry now to the Esha prayer.


Some room is still available there,
We are not really
Creatures of pomp and luxury.
Our Calipha once ru.led over half the universe
Dressed in clothes no better than beggers.
Once we only desired death
In the cause of our faith,


But now such a people as our's
Are numbed in a drunken stupor
While outside there rages a violent storm.


We had nothing but a dry piece of bread,
But we had a mighty faith and none did we dread,
A noble spirit of sacrifice we possessed.
And we moved from place to place without sleep or rest,
Always as victors great.


Let us bring back to our life
That faith and spirit of sacrifice:
Let the cry of Allah-o-Akbar
Resound in the lips of all.
Let the world tremble again
At the sound of that clarion call.


[Translation: Kabir Chowdhury]

The Rebel

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!


[Translation: Kabir Chowdhury]

The Ecstasy of Destruction

Come, make merry and rejoice.
There rages the summer storm
flying the flag of the New and the Young,

There comes he who had not come so long;
Dancing merrily
drink we will the joy of destruction.

There comes the Terrible
like the fierce executioner of eternal time
across the dark well of death
through smouldering smoke
lighting the torch of thunder.

There, listen to his ringing laughter.
Come, make merry and rejoice!

The wavy locks of his hair

make the sky rock and swing.
Even the ominous comet is at his service.
His blood, like an unsheathed sword,

rocks the bosom of the father of the universe.
Look, this wild tumultuous tunnoil
has made the sky and the earth still and numb
Come, make merry and rejoice.

A dozen suns glitter and shine in his burning eyes
And the sorrows of the world cluster in his
tangled and disheveled hair.
A single dropp of his tear
makes the seven seas roll and swell.
In his giant arms he crakles the mother-earth
and cries out, 'Welcome, Destruction! '
Come, comrades, make merry and rejoice, '

Oh, have no fear!
The deluge will soon overtake the universe.
The final hour is fast drawing near.
The rotting old and the dying decrepit


will now be wiped out for good.
Now at last at the end of the long night of darkness
The glorious dawn will come with a smile
in her soft and tender dress.
Look, there the young moon shines in his unkempt hair.

Its light will fill your room

and make it glow with a strange radiance,
Come, make merry and rejoice!
There he comes flashing his whip of blood and lightning,

directing the passage of eternity.
The neighing of his horse reverberates in the stormy wind
and in the song of thunder.
The blast of his hoofs hits the stars

and scatters them shooting


through the columns of the blue-domed sky.
The gods are all lying in the dead well
of a dark dungeon.

They are tied to the cold stony pillar
of the sacriticial altar.
Indeed this is the time for him

to come triumphantly riding his gorgeous chariot.
O comrades, come, make merry and rejoice!
Why should the sight of destruction frighten you?
All this upheaval is but the birth pain

of a new creation.
There comes the bold new youth
eager to wipe out all that is ugly and decayed.

He comes with' his unkempt hair and careless dress
on the wings of the Deluge
with a smile on his lips.

He is the eternal beauty
who knows how to destroy and build again,

Come, make merry and rejoice!

What fear has he
for whom all this destruction and rebuilding
is but a game?

Come, make merry and rejoice,
and welcome the Beautiful
who comes today in the garb of the Terrible.

[Translation: Kabir Chowdhury]

Struggle


You lived for so long,
Now once put your life on the line;
The same hands you use for only prayers,
With weapons let once those shine.


Tearing off the crescent from sky,
Decorate your flag that is crimson red;
Let the seniles live longer
You offer your precious life, go ahead.


[Original: Shadhona (Bengali) ,
Translation: Mohammad Omar Farooq]

Song of the Student

We are the power, we are the strength,
We the band of students.
The stormy wind makes obeisance tonus
And clouds and airships bow
Before us, the students class.


We can move in the darkness of the night
Needing no guiding light.
We walk with bare feet
Ever ready to dangers meet.
We move like a terrific flood
Making the stony earth scarlet with our blood.
Throughout the ages
Our blood has wet this soil.
We are not afraid of work or toil,
We the student class.


We hold the reins of the horse
Of the great King Deat.
Our lifeless corpse
Will write the history of our fights.
In the country of laughter, whenever needed,
We bring tears, bitter and cold.
We the students, mighty bold.


When everybody gives wise counsel
We are the people who err.
When the cautious one builds embankments
We sit still and do not stir.
We are the dare-devil youth
Who care for none,
We make our path slippery with blood,
We the student class.


The light of knowledge shines in our eyes,
And in our hearts burn boble ideas.
On our lips dwell no lies,
Which only proclaim
Effortlessly and with ease
The call of all times,
That has survived through war and peace,
And we have made the white lilies
Purple with our blood,
We the students; who move like a mighty flood.


In these terrible days of revolution
We are eager to march ahead and fight,
So that light may burst out
Ending the eternal darkness of the night.
In us seeks the twentieth century
Her emancipation.
With our tears of glory



The mother-earth clothes herself
In resignation.
There is no fear of death for us,
The mighty student class.


We dream of a joyous future, gay and bright,
Built on hope and love,
The milky-way in the sky
Shows us our path, straight and wide.
Let the dream of millions come true and right,
Let them see the splendid sight
Through the eyes of us.
The student class.


Translation: Kabir Chowdhury

Pioneers, O Pioneers

O you who look so soiled and weary,
Collect your armour for the struggle,
Your rusty shovels, heavy hammers,
To save the earth from dire disaster.


We have no time for sport or revels,
No leisure for procrastinating.
The war's begun in deadly earnest;
We've deeds to plant and crops to harvest.


I see the young on fire and marching
Onward past mountains, vales and rivers,
Unbent and proud man's heritage,
Freedom and honour, in their keeping.


The ancient East, inert, feeble,
A waits a voice to end its slumber.
We will once more awaken, rouse it,
And set it stirring, breathing, moving.


The murky past is dead and buried.
We must emerge from sunless caverns
Into broad uplands bright and shining,
Create a world of newer splendour.


We'll scale the peaks and cross the gorges,
And overcome what risks lie hidden.
We'll fell old trees to build our bridges
And go down in the mines for treasure.


We are awake, no longer sleeping;
We have descended from the plateaus,
Reckless of hungry wounded tigers
And we must move and look not backwards.


We are beholden to those countries,
Egypt and China, Spain and Norway,
Russia, Korea, who have broken
Their age-old chains and savoured freedom.


O Fortune's darlings, I, the poet,
Have nought to offer but my anguish,
My hopes, My dreams, the red blood dripping
From Within my heart beating wildly.


Invoke the gods of ruthless terror,
Shrink not from blood, as green and daring
You must unfurl your country's banner
Armed to the teeth and marching forward.


Listen! beloved fearless children;
Wild beasts and vultures squeak behind you,



And rotting corpses leer, or, frowning,
Earn praise from those who're scared of movement.


Let not these horrors daunt Or frighten;
But torch in hand advance, resistless;
The battlefield is strewn with martyrs
Who died in hundreds faces shining.


The earth is pulsing with a new life,
A tremor coursing through its arteries.
Ours is the strength of many armies;
Our comrades wait in every hamlet.


Sailors and ploughmen, slaves and masters,
Workers and lovers, waifs and prisoners,
Unhappy men who know no laughter-
They too are actors in Our drama.


The day that wanes, the night that follows,
The planets which you see revolving,
Children not born yet, our future soldiers,
They too are bound on this quest endless.


Sisters, awake, your brothers need you
They'll lag behind if you are missing;
Arise and join them, Jet the vanguard
Move forward, rank on rank in order.


I hear the sound of bells announcing
The coming age, when dreams and reveries
Will be fulfilled, and hopes turn rosy,
And we will reach our destination.


We have no use for lifeless knowledge
Stored in thick tomes; We want no false dreams
Or short-lived joys, bejewelled footwear,
Or cushioned thrones, no wealth that's rotten.


We shall survive on bread and water.
And sleep on hard floors, learn to hate those
Who are enslaved by greed, those gluttons;
We will go forward, we the fighters.


Do wipe away your tears, my comrades,
And rest a while if are weary,
Do not lose heart if night is falling,
Our will is firm, our aim is steady.


[Translation: Syed Sajjad Husain]

Irrepressible Youth

O restless and impetuous youth!
Who hid thy face with the mask of wisdom
And clothed thee with the apparel of patience?
All the morality-mongers advise restraint
For the arrogant power of youth
Only to hide their own inner fears.
O thou impetuous! Who fettered thy flying wings?
Fearless youth! Thou, who from the crowd
Of begging weaklings, used to snatch light
Out of the womb of darkness, dost rest today
In thy nest,
How couldst thou check
Thy terrific onrush of life at the bidding
Of those whose spine is broken by
The cold touch of the polar wind and
Whose life is made powerless by the shadow of

hardened frost.
How strange to see the lion of the desert
Meekly enter the cage and submit to punishment!
Those who to want create to and yet are afraid to destroy
Are themselves victims of destruction first.
What fool says that thou canst kindle the fire
Without burning firewood? How
Canst thou get the shade of the forest

If the seed does not supply the life?
The swift flowing river as it rushes madly on
Impelled by its richness of life erodes the

two banks
And yet, at the same time, makes the flowers blossom.
She is thirsty for the sea and knows not
Who is her friend or foe. She cares
Not how many boats she sinks. All she
Wants is ever to be on the move, for that is
Her religion, Who ever heard that the breakers
Of the sea quietly slept lest two merchant ships sank?

Will not the elephant walk on the roads
Lest it tramples an ant under its feet?
Will not the mighty fire burn lest
It destroys healths and homes?


Will the sight of gaping, tattered roofs
Make the rains cease its heavy downpour?
Will the summer storms fail to come
Lest the trees in the woods tumble arid break?
Will there be no eagle because the timid
Baby-Lamb might take fright at his sight ?
O uncalculating youth,
Thou dost never waste thy time making out
The balance sheet of loss and gain !



O tempestuous youth, wake up!
Come like a tornado, trampling everything that falls
In front of thee, in causeless glee.


Bring generous life, wide as the horizons,
And a mighty current of motion strong enough
To wash tile debris off the banks
In a wild rush.
Embrace sorrow with a stout heart
And laugh loudly with frankness and joy.
Freedom will come later, but sing now
Of the fresh and the young. Untimely and
Ugly sickness has attacked the kingdom of youth.
This nation is inert as the dead
Long before its real decease. Open the iron door
And let joy unbounded flow
Like the smooth easy flight of the pigeons
In the blue firmament. Rush into the ocean
For no reason and climb the peak
Of that distant hill! If thou meetest
Death round the corner, embrace him as thy comrade.
Get rid of all the prejudices that reside
Inside thy heart and outside of thee, All the swords
Of Ali are rusted today and gone to seed!


[Original: Durbar joubon; Translation: Kabir Chowdhury]

I Sing of Heroes

I sing of Heroes -

The youth, the revolutionary,

Who armed with a sharp Excalibur

Today go forth in all directions

With valiant steps and steady

Upon a campaign for the impossible,

The Egyptian Pyramids of Antiquity,

Stand as a chronicle of such campaign,

Heroes whose mere breath

doth drive away into oblivion

The dead leaves of moth-eaten scriptures

Who hew down the haunts and
temples of false gods. .

And the time-honoured ale-house

Of the grand hypocrite

In the person of a reputed Moralist;

Whose mighty streams of. ideal reform

Swept away the long-standing nuisance

The awful and heavy stocks and stones of customs,

The old fossils of dead scriptures.

Those who came fearlessly

To the temple of the unreal

Armed with the stout relentless club,

To break the bondage of 'Maya'

And did with undaunted courage

Strike, by means of mighty hammer

The Chinese walls of superstition.

Those who ploughed the Burial Ground

And pushed away the dead bones

To layout a garden of blooming flowers,

Who now crowd the sea shore of life,

As 'Cynosure of neighbouring eyes'
I sing of Heroes.

Who today march forward

Upon the path of life in tune, with the world

-At dead of night the other day
A passenger who, all alone,
launched his boat
On the dangerous Deep,
Did not return to the shore next morning.
In memory of that fearless adventurer
I shed my tears and write an Elegy
Even today in the stilIness of Night
Even today I keep sleepless night
And sing a song of welcome to him
He who did not return on the morrow
Did indeed take an aerial journey over night,
As a traveller of infinite space
In search of a far-off New World.
The eternal Sentinel at the gate of Death
Trembles in fear of him,
And keeps ever-wakeful vigils.


Those who under the mighty impulse of life

Pursue Death ceaselessly

In the depths of the ocean,

In the boundless sky,

And all over the surface of the Globe,

Those who go down into the Hades

And despoil the palace of Yakshas

of its rare gems,

Who disregarding the nite of the
terrible cobra

Steal the jewel from its head,

Who have controlled the thunder of Bajrapani,

And made the proud lightning,

Daughter of the clouds,

A captive and a maid -

I have come to salute and sing

Of those who are attended by the wind

As an obedient servant

Refreshing them with its balmy breath -

My wailings and lamentations ill all the air for those

Who mount the Scaffold

And the Scaffold itself is tired now

Of hanging them.

And in whose prison,

Behold, the fair Dawn held in fetters

Doth wake up and smile

A flowery smile!

[Ami gai tari gaan; Translation: Abdul Hakim]

Faith and Hope

Don't look up to them-those
who have lost faith and hope.
They move-yet they're dead-the living dead,
the devil has finished them, robbed them
of their integrity.
Out of fear, their souls have escaped
to the land of Death.


If there are wants, poverty, debt, disease,
suffering, humiliation-don't just succumb
to hopelessness-fight them!
The real enemy is within-fear; and
only the ones who will accept defeat out of confusion,
lies and unnecessary fear will go on suffering every day.


'Oh, what is going to happen? '-those who just sit at home
trembling in fear, are the ones already defeated
in the battle of life.
They are the captives in the prison
of humiliation and subjugation.


They are repuIsive-allowing the helpIess
to be treated with injustice.
They are afraid for no reason, weak and ignorant.
More than pity, I feel infuriated by them.
They lie dead with their tongues stuck out.
Flowers blossom in burial grounds, but
in these dead trees, blossoms nothing.


They are fatalists-sitting alone they think,
'This is my fate, you can't change that! '
They deny their own power,
accepting defeat without a fight.
They are senile, morbid-.don't mix with them.
They are the death's leftover garbage in this world.
They are diseased from the inside,
they see only darkness around them.
With eyes closed, even when they see light,
they say, 'This is not light.'


For those with intense, unshakeable confidence,
waves of youth and life flow melodiously.
They enliven the dead earth-bountiful
with crops, flowers and fruits.
Nothing can block their way.


Fearless-any defeat is their ladder to heaven.
The darker the days, the more they see the light of hope.
Go to them-they wear the amulets
of fearlessness and victory over death.


Those who can imagine loftily, dream nobly,



they are the ones who bring welfare to the earth.
They show the paths of exploring the impossible,
even angels abide by them.


Possessing soul, yet allowing themselves
to suffer bodily pain,
not vowing their lives against the oppressorthey
are like caged animals, not human beings,
their hopelessness leads all human hopes and faith
to dissolution.


Possessing hands and feet, yet sitting inert
hiding faces in a dark muddy hole out of fearthey
have disavowed their humanity.
They belong to burial and cremation groundsnot
amongst us.


I say, listen people, lead a life of fulfillment.
You'll see, the earth is shaken by its power!
This is the message of God: 'Human beings get
what they wish for.'
Their hands, feet, eyes become God's own.


If hopes are lofty, and so are the efforts to achieve them,
then victory awaits at the door.
Impatience never overtakes that soldier
even at times of great difficulties.
Determined, calm, engrossed is the pioneer hero.


He replaces gloom with divine joy.
Like the moon, his love moves the sea of humanity.
His heart is filled with courage.
March along with him on that path of victory!


Have faith- you will get what you hope for!
And don't touch him-he's dead-one
who has lost faith.


[Original: Bishshash o Asha; 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]

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]

Be Ever Stronger!

Inside and outside, equally always
be stronger, ever!
The more bad times approach,
be firm and don't yield. Never!
The more you fear defeat,
just be that much more brave!
Let your sword-grip not loosen
at the thought of dark grave.


Continue your struggle against the monsters
for the truth's sake;
Death at the battle field? Your name
the world, forever, will take.


This is the command of God:
Be strong on this earth. Always!
It is the braves who have turned impossible
into possible in every age.


The unbelievers and the cowards to
Allah, they are not lovable;
The 'Tiger of Allah' is he,
who attains faith unshakable.


Anyone who loses patience and faith
can't be a Muslim under the sun;
God Himself is whose Lord in this world,
he fears absolutely none!


The believer hears only the echo of Takbir
in all the hatred and prejudice;
rebukes and criticism do not distract him,
at adversity he throws kiss.


God is the ultimate truth;
fear belongs to the domain of falsehood;
All these noise and hulabaloo,
for believers, become nutrition-food.


Have you forgotten
those fearless valiants from Arabia,
who dethroned
the emperors of Rome and Persia?


How many were they in number?
What weapon did their hands hold?
With their complete faith in God,
were they not wonderfully bold?


Oblivious to win or defeat,
they fought valiantly without precedence;
Every corner of the world shook



and trembled at their exemplary confidence.


They ruled the world
while lived like a destitute;
Loss of a battle did not ruin their spirit,
this was their attitude.


They died with a laugh;
retreating was not their mood;
To them Islam was
a perennial struggle against falsehood.


They were the warriors of God in this world,
this is what they knew;
They fought for and achieved freedom;
begging for it was not their view.


Success greets him who desires
to engrave his own death stone;
He can't be a general,
at sighting adversaries, who tremble to his bone.


The more enemies he sees,
his battle-thirst does grow!
Like a blazing fire in veins and bones,
his spirit burns aglow.


His swords become even sharper
as he is hurt more;
As his supplies diminish,
he strikes harder at enemies' door.


Don't despair! All the fatalist
and victims of hopelessness in my sight!
You are already wounded or dead
even without any fight!


The head that you lowered
in God's worship,
do not lower that to anyone,
or to any hardship.


The head that bent before God,
who can further make it bend?
If a sword severs that head,
to pick it up, angels God does send.


He who turns a weak person
into a power house,
he is the Imam to me,
love on him this soul bestows.



Whose words and deeds give strength and courage
to those without determination,
I am decorating his crown;
for him is my mobilization.


He who fasts so that
Eid will knock at poor's door,
I believe he is a beloved of God,
and yes, he is even more.


Against the ambassadors of miseries
or enemies of people,
the braves who will fight them
and make them cripple.


At the command of Allah,
I invite them to the congregation,
those who were asleep,
even they are joining in jubilation.


My Takbir call is only for those
who live like a dead,
the soldiers of the Truth
will come forward, off their comfy bed.


I blow the trumpet
of the rising sun of the coming age,
I have no fear of death,
or of a prison's cage.


I cry and summon all,
standing alone at the new age's minaret,
If a duck does not come forward,
a bird will come with its wing spread.


In this path fear of roaming hawks
and cruel hunters unavoidably lies,
the light-seeking birds are still coming forward
with chirps of sunrise.


Death-scared now are
the men and women of Bengal, to me so dear!
I have taken up the sword
to remove their stubborn fear.


We have heard
the scared souls' sad supplication,
we must rescue and free them,
this is what Allah wants from us as a nation.


We are His servants,
and we have received the mandate;



To save life of those scared people,
we would never hesitate.


I play the trumpet and wave the flag,
as the cloud gathers up above;
our souls will be awaken
with the strike of thunder and rain of love.


Politics paves the way
for our forward march,
victory will visit us again
on this same noble path.


In whose heart there is desire
and effort to become strong again,
I am close to them,
and at their door I knock in pain.


They are being mobilized
in Bengal's motherly lap,
I have seen full moon
shining above like a victory-cap.


[Original: Nitto Prabal Hou! (bengali)
Translation: Mohammad Omar Farooq]