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THE REBEL”Bidrohi” —a poem by Kazi Nazrul Islam,Translated by Gazi Abdulla-hel Baqui – Daily CN Bangla










THE REBEL”Bidrohi” —a poem by Kazi Nazrul Islam,Translated by Gazi Abdulla-hel Baqui

THE REBEL”Bidrohi” —a poem by Kazi Nazrul Islam
Translation: Gazi Abdulla-hel Baqui

(The original title of the poem in Bangla “Bidrohi” written by Kazi Nazrul Islam, The National Poet of Bangladesh. This is one of the great poems ever written in Bangla and in the world of literature as well. It is known that this memorable great poem was written in the last week of this month i.e. December, 1921 and since then till this time i. e. December 2020, it completes its Century.)

O hero, pronounce—
Pronounce high is my head,
Beholding my head even the Himalaya lowers its peak!
O hero, pronounce—
Pronounce ripping apart the infinite sky of the vast universe
Leaving behind the moon, the sun, planets and stars
Cleaving the round sphere and the global space
Severing the seat of heaven
I have risen as an everlasting wonder of the mother earth!
On my forehead shines the angry god like the luminous royal mark of
the victor goddess.

Pronounce hero
Ever high is my head.

I am irrepressible, haughty and ruthless,
I am the lordly actor of all-pervading universal disaster, I am the
cyclone, I am the ruin,
I am the great consternation; I am the curse of the earth,
I am irresistible,
I crush everything to pieces!
I am lawless and wayward,
I trample under my feet all fetters, all rules and discipline!
No laws I do obey,
I fully sink the loaded boats, I am torpedo, I am an awful floating mine!
I am darkness destroyer Shiva; I am the disheveled gale
of untimely Bhaishak!
I am the rebel; I am the rebellious child of the mother earth!
Pronounce hero—
High is my head

I am the gale, I am the whirlwind,
I grind to dust all lying and strewn along my path.
I am the dance-maddened rhythm,
I go on dancing to my own beats, I am delightfully free;
I am Hambeer, Chayanot and Hindole—the musical modes

I am fickle, with artful gait, going along my way
in an instant thrill jumping with three swings!
I am the swift lightning and the swing Hindole
I do whatever my mind intends to do, my brother.
I embrace my foes, scuffle with death,
I am mad, I am the hurricane!
I am the pandemic; I am the dread of this earth.
I am the slayer of ruling and terrorism; I am ever restless in fury.
O hero, herald—
Ever high is my head.
I am ever unruly, impassioned,
I am invincible; the cup of my life is always over brimmed with liquor.
I am the flame of sacrificial fire, I am consecrated, the consuming fire of
Parsuram’s father,
I am the sacrifice, I am a priest, I am the fire.
I am the creation and the ruin; I am the habitation and the burning ground,
I am the end, the closing of night.
I am the son of Indrany, the moon in hand and the sun on forehead,
My one hand holds a curved bamboo flute, the other hand a war-drum,
I am the voice of Krishna; I drink venom churned by sea of sorrows!
I am the sun the lord of the sky; I hold the unhindered flow of Ganges.
O hero, herald—
Ever high is my head!
I am a mendicant, the tune of a soldier,
I am a prince, my kingly bearing fades as with red ochre!
I am a nomad, I am Chenghiz,
I salute none but myself!
I am the thunder, the primal sound on the north-east,
I am the loud menacing blow of Israfil’s horn,
I am the sounding trident of lord Shiva and the scepter of Dharmaraj,
I am the concentrated energy and the great shell; I am the primordial
boisterous scream.

I am Durbasha charged with rage and the disciple of Bishamitra,
I am the heat of conflagration, I shall burn the world!
I have vibrant smile and glee—I am the consternation against creation,
I am the total eclipse of the twelve suns of colossal disaster,
I am at times tranquil,–at times disquieted and a rank despotic,
I am the youth of the red-blooded sun, I humble down the pride of the master!
I am the exultation of gust of wind; I am the mighty uproar of sea,
I am blazing, I am luminous,
I am the surging water’s overflowing and the swinging of billows!–

I am the untied queue of a maiden, fiery sparkle in her slender eyes,
I am the sixteen-year girl’s unbounded love in her lotus like heart,
I am thankful!
I am the listless mind of an apathetic soul,
I am the sighed cries in the widow’s heart, I am the dejection
of the crest-fallen!
I am the deprived pain of the ever homeless wanderers living by wayside,
I am the deep agony of the insulted, burning like the poison-effect
returning to heart ill-treated by the beloved.
I am the distress and acute pain of the ever aggrieved heart of the piqued,
I am the first thrilling touch of the maiden and the timid throbs of her
stolen kiss.
I am the bashful rapid glance of the secret beloved, casting constant
looks at her by pretense,
I am the love of the agile girl, the jingling of her wristlets.
I am a child forever, the youth for all times,
I am the hem and bodice covering the country belle, frightened for her
blooming youth!
I am the north-wind, the refreshing breeze from the south, the pensive
air from the east,
I am the profound musical tune of the traveller-poet, singing songs on
bamboo flute.
I am the distracted thirst by summer heat; I am the wrathful blazing sun.
I am the rolling desert-spring; I am the dense shades of the green!
I keep running with extreme bliss—what insanity, I am insane!
I have suddenly known myself; the barriers of my life have crumbled!
I have rising and fall, I am unconscious but conscious in heart,
I am the banner, the emblem of man’s victory at the gateway of the world.
I speed up like the gale clapping and traversing
through earth and heaven under control,
My mount is the winged Buraque highly spirited and Indra’s Uchaisrava
tremendously speeding up with neighs!
I am the volcano erupting on the earth’s bosom, the submarine fire
and the all destroying conflagration,
I am intoxicated on the earth, the fire in the boundless sea,
full of tumults and loud noises!
I, riding on lightning, fly at a fast speed with leaps and finger-snapping,
I all on a sudden transfuse terror into the world and strike earthquake.
I grapple the fang of Basuki, the god of snake
I firmly grasp the fiery wings of Gabriel, the heavenly messenger.
I am the son of deity, I am uncontrolled,
I am impudent; I tear away with teeth the hem of the mother earth!

I am the flute of Orpheus
The great Indus is anxiously drowsed
I make the entire world quiet with slumber-kiss.
Being oblivious of my tune
I am the lute in the hands of Shyam.
When furious, I rise and rush across the boundless space,
In panic, the seven hells including Habia shudder to extinguish.
I let the upsurge of rebellion spread across the earth and the sky.

I am the flood and deluge of Sraban,
Sometimes I welcome the decked world, at times in immense ruins.
I shall snatch a couple of girls from the bosom of Bishnu.
I am the injustice, I am meteor, I am Saturn,
I am the blazing comet, the venomous fang of the king cobra.
I am goddess Chandi the reckless beheader; I am the destructive Ramada.
Sitting in the hell-fire, I break into a flowery simile.

I am made of mud; I am the possessor of soul,
I am undecaying, eternal, inexhaustible, and invincible!
I am the terror to humans, monsters and deities,
I am the ever invulnerable of the world,
The lord of gods, I am a true excellent man,
I frantically dance and hover about the earth and the sky!
I am maniac, I am insane!!
I have known myself, I overcome today all my barriers.

I am the cruel axe of Parshuram,
I shall disarm the world slaying soldiers and bring peace and benevolence!
With Bularam’s plough on my shoulder I shall easily uproot the subjugated
world but joyously for a new creation.

The great rebel wearied of strife and war,
I shall grow calm and quiet on that day,
When the sky and wind will not be echoed by the loud groaning
of the oppressed,
When the swords and scimitars of the oppressors will stop jingling
in the frightful field of battle—
I the rebel, weary of war
I shall grow subdued to peace on that day.
I, the rank rebel, imprint foot-marks on the lord’s chest!
I am the creator-killer and will rend apart the capricious lord’s heart
inflicting sorrows and pains,
I, the rank rebel, will imprint the foot-marks on the lord’s chest!
I shall rend apart the whimsical bosom of the lord!

I am hero the ever rebellious—
I alone have risen above the world with my head ever high.

Biographical Information

Dr. Gazi Abdulla-hel Baqui, poet, writer, translator, and a university professor, has already authored twenty books and a great number of poems, (including haiku and rubaiyat), articles and stories have been published in different national and local and online Dailies, Magazines, Journals, Periodicals etc. Besides being awarded internationally for his poetic accomplishments, he has many a time been honored by different organizations of Bangladesh for his contribution to literature, education and research. A solo cassette album of his eleven poems called `Visions’ and his poems in some anthologies have been published by The National Library of Poetry, Maryland. Oddball Magazine, English Teaching Forum, Poetry.com etc.have also published his poems. His prize-winning poems on peace have been published in Official Catalogues by Cultura-e-Societa, Torino, Italy. His poems generally deal with peace and patriotism, eternal problems and lasting human conviction.

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