I want to tell you one thing:
If I look at the crescent moon...
at the end of the dark lunar fortnight;
If I hoist the flag with a crescent emblem on the chinārs and rooftops;
Or draw a graffiti of the flag on my wrinkled face;
My patriotic actions must not annoy you;
You should not apply the law of sedition against me;
I am just dreaming to regain everything that I have lost;
I fantasize aromas, light and music of peace and freedom...
Waiting for me and for my wretched people;
Well, now, if little by little, you stop inflicting pain upon me...
I shall stop holding grudges against you in my heart little by little;
If, suddenly, you stop tyrannising me...
Do not apprehend vengeance from me;
For I shall already have forgiven you,
In me nothing is extinguished or forgotten about the golden memories of my land;
My love for my land shall never start yawning,
As long as I live I shall keep on holding the roots,
Of the Chinār and sit under its cool shade.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem