hello friends i hope all you are well..i am also well too..now i am discuss about my blog explain and my favourite work #blogging challenge
I have loved to write and read poetry since I was a child and still in the midst of this stale poem happiness happiness pain an artist and a poet can express it One day I too want to grow up to be a poet and a writer.One of my favorite poems is ((man)).written by Kazi Nazrul Islam..Gahi Samyer Gaan-
There is nothing greater than man, no greater than man,
There is no country-time-pot difference, same religion,
In all countries, at all times, in every house, he is a relative of man.
‘Priest, open the door,
It is time for Khudar Thakur to stand at the door and worship! '
Seeing the dream, the anxious priest opened the temple
God bless you today!
Worn-clothes thin-faced, hungry voice weak
Dakil Panth, 'Open the door, father, I haven't eaten for seven days!'
Suddenly the temple closed, the beggar returned,
Whale night, his hungry manik burns across the path!
Bhukhari fukari 'kaya,
‘That temple worshiper, oh god, not yours!’
There was a lot of shirni in the mosque yesterday, plenty of gosht bread
Survived, Mr. Mollah laughed so cuddly!
At that time, Musafir Gaye-Azari's Chin came
Says ‘Dad, I’m hungry for seven days today!’
Teriyan haiya hankil molla - vala hal dekhi letha,
You are starving to death! Do you pray, son?
The beggar said, 'No, father!'
Look at the straight path! 'He took gosht-ruti and locked the mosque!
The beggar goes back,
As he walks, he says-
Eighty years have passed, I have never called you,
The Lord did not stop my hunger for food
Then people claim that there is no lord in the mosque and temple,
Mollah-Purut has put the key in all his doors!
Where is Genghis, Ghajini-Mamud, where is Kalapahar?
Break down the locks and doors of the temple!
Who puts the door in God's house, who gives the lock there?
All the doors are open, shovel hammer shovel shovel!
Hi Ray Bhajanalaya,
Climb your minaret and win the interest of Bhand Gahe!
Hate people '
O 'Kara Koran, Veda, Bible Kissing Mori' Mori '
He insisted on taking the book out of his mouth,
Those who killed Anil Gran'-Kitab,
Worshiping Gran's hypocritical team! Listen to all the fools,
People brought gran '; - Gran' did not bring any man.
Adam David Jesus Musa Ibrahim Mohammed
Krishna Buddha Nanak Kabir, -The wealth of the world,
These are our fathers and grandfathers, these are among us
Their blood is more or less in every artery!
We are their children, relatives, bodies like theirs,
Who knows when Mora may become like that.
Don't laugh, friend! How infinite I am,
I know who knows who is there
Your Majesty.
Maybe Kalki is coming to me, Mehedi Isa is coming to you,
Who knows whose on- and adi, who gets whose direction?
Who are you hating, brother, who are you kicking?
Maybe God is awake in his chest day and night!
Or maybe he's nothing, not great,
There are miserable wounds and grief,
Yet the world's most sacred Gran's shrine
সম Not as sacred as a small body!
Maybe Ihari Urse Bhai is in his cottage-bus
No one is born - there is no pair in the history of the world!
The world has not heard that message even today, in that superpower
Even today the world has not seen, - maybe he is already in the house!
Who is he? Chandal? Why? No, and disgusting creatures!
That could be Harishchandra, the Shiva of that crematorium.