Sabyasachi Nazrul (Bangladesh)



Sabyasachi Nazrul (Bangladesh)

Poet Sabyasachi Nazrulis born on 5 May 1988 in Shariatpur district of Bangladesh to an aristocratic Muslim family. He was fond of literature and started writing poems, rhymes, stories when 10 years age. He has 17th joints books, and two own books one is ” Sapna Uran” another is manuscripts award winning “Eakti Tarjonir Isara” and editing a literary magazine ‘kirtinashar kirti’, He received many awards. His works have been published National newspapers, Literary journals, Magazines of Bangladesh and also published in various literary journals, magazines in India, West Bengal, UK, USA, Italy, Egypt, China, Sapin, Greach, Tunisia, Trinidad and Tobago, Uzbekistan, Pakistan, Serbia, Croatia, Nepal, Middle East, Colombia, Kosta Rika, South Africa, Nijera, Singapore,Argentinian, Canada.
His works have been translated into English, French, Albanians, Italian, Nepalese, Indian, Colombian, Croatian, Spanish,
Arabic. Government employee the Author is the president of SMC, Mosura govt Primary School, Founder President of Sapno Uran international Literature and Cultural Parishad, Ambassador and member to several international literary organisations.

I do not want war, I want peace

Missile, the body of my mother brother sister wounded by bullets,
They has fallen in the lap of death.
They are lying frozen in the Street!
I am crying, my father is also crying profusely,
Father took me on his arms,
On sides running like crazy
Looking for safe shelter.

There are hundreds of hundreds of corpse in the drains, drainage, sewers, crowded all around.
Thousands of millions of lives want to live!
I am thirsty for water, dad running out me running fast,
But there is not a drop of water anywhere;
Nowhere is there so much food,
Helpless groaning father!

Decorated cities, our homes, garden, my books, toys have been reduced rubble.
On all sides is engulfed in the dusty wash,
Trembling all around with the blows of the mortal bullets.

Night and day, there is no light anywhere,
The darkness is darkness.
Water, Electricity, Gas, TV, Telephone stations are on the verge of destruction.
Roads, rivers of blood flow in the sewerage line..

My raw mind says..
I do not want war,
I want peace, peace and peace.
We want peace, peace and peace!
We want to live in peace and love for each others.

It’s a Festival games

The dew on the grass frozen in the icy air
In the daytime sky in the name of darkness at the end of twilight.

At end of the night, the bee touches white fog of morning,
Swinging in cold air is dream hope of the mind.

In the glittering sun, the bee is in nothers love
The guest bird’s will return hoping to return.

The murmur of direct leaves on the arrival of new leaves,
Everyone got drunk on forest, food and flowered in the forest.

In the house of a Bengali
there is fair of juice, cakes with date molasses.
Thirteen festivals in twelve months look at the Festivals game.


Walking barefoot to the far end on the present monpura island.
Woman, you are great,
You are victorious.

In the new moon fasting
I am sitting in the lamp of soft lighting,
Waiting for your coming ;

You will win with a wreath
I am full of kisses and hugs,
Goes to white clothes ;

I am still without you the empty heart is empty,
Swing like a swinging pendulum
The pain continues to growl..

O woman, you still do not understand me
Why is it so stupid to stay after a long unknown.

O woman, you are not alone
You are free for flying in the sky.
Woman, you are win, you are win.
You are victorious…

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