Ode To The Freedom ।। Shamsur Rahman

Freedom, you’re
Tagore’s ever young poems, eternal songs.
Freedom, you’re
Kazi Nazrul, a great soul with long clustered hair
dangling, trembling in the joy of creation—
Freedom, you’re
The glorious gathering of everlasting Ekushey at Shahid Minar
Freedom, you’re
The flag- adorned slogan-shouting procession, irresistible.
Freedom, you’re
The farmers’ smiling faces in crop-fields.
Freedom, you’re
The uninterrupted sunny midday-swim of a rural girl in mid-pond.
Freedom, you’re
The sinewy muscles, sun-shining skilled arm of a young workman.
Freedom, you’re
The glint eyes of freedom fighters at the edge of this extreme darkness.
Freedom, you’re
The dazzling fervent speech of young meritorious student
beneath the shade of a Banyan tree.
Freedom, you’re
The blowing discussion at tea-stalls and open places.
Freedom, you’re
The reckless gust of April-storm throughout horizons.
Freedom, you’re
The Meghna’s shore-omitted wideness in the month of Shraban
Freedom, you’re the generous velvet texture of father’s prayer-mat.
Freedom, you’re
The shivering of mother’s white sari, spread in the courtyard.
Freedom, you’re
The glaze of henna on sister’s soft palm.
Freedom, you’re a scarlet poster, star-shining in the hands of a friend.
Freedom, you’re
Housewife’s thick black hair,
Wild, indomitable in the air.
Freedom, you’re
The colorful Kurta to wear a male-child,
The playful sunlight
On so tender cheek of a female-child.
Freedom, you’re
The garden home, cooing of cuckoos,
Pendant leaves of an older Banyan tree,
My notebook to pen poems as I wish to be pleased.
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[Literal Translation by Rahman Henry ]