I sing the song of equality—
Here, fresh happiness blossoms
in all the hearts of men,
fresh life on all faces.
Comrade, nobody is king here, nobody subject,
nobody poor, nobody wealthy;
nobody eats broken bits of rice here,
nobody milk-film-cream.
Here, nobody bows down before those
who ride horses or get on motor-cars;
Seeing here the black men,
hatred does not spring up
in the white men’s breasts.
It is the place of equality—
here, the black and the white
have no separate graveyards
nor any sperate churches.
Here is no fear from sentries or police-men.
It is the heaven where there is no division;
here leaving all quarrels aside,
men have clasped their hands as brothers.
Here is no division between religions,
no noise for scriptures;
Christian clergyman,
Hindu priest,
Muslim jurist
and Buddhist monk drink water here
from the same container.
This body, this mind is God’s prayer-house here;
here His throne of sorrow is amidstthe miseries of men.
He responds to each call, by whatever name
whoever appeals to Him, which way a child
gets response from its mother.
Here, nobody quarrels on trouser, pants or dhuti;
here clothed in dusty costumes
everyone is happy.
23.6.2017 Sirajganj
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