I made the poem lie onh the carpet of grass reciting charms
The poems have got the magic of staring straight
standing erect,
The poems have become target of going to the battle
Discarding the hills, caves with vlows and jump
Towards the enimies, and shot bulets at their eyes
To make them humiliated.
I made the poem lie on the carpet of grass reciting charms
The poems have learned to burst out like mines
Hidden under the grass
To execute the heads of Pak invasers, plunderers and Al-Badr
The poems received the magic of Indendence
From the heroic voice of Sheikh Mujib’s speech of 7th March
The poems Are Liberation fighters, rifles in the hands of patriots
The burn our in the triggers
And shed blood from the opponents
I made the poem lie onh the carpet of grass reciting charms
The poems are today like sovereign-natured valient bullets
Shoots out in the ether
In the sounds of clandestine radio of Free Bengal
In the houses of the Bengalees, war-fronts
Spreading the courageous sounds.
The poems have engaged in war of independence today.