“Bidrohi” (Bengali: “বিদ্রোহী”, English: “The Rebel”) is a popular revolutionary Bengali poem and the most famous poem written by Kazi Nazrul Islam in. Bidrohi. vabantar banner. Back to KOBITA. Images/Kobita/Golam Golam Mustafa. Play all one after one > · Apon Piashi · Bhiru · Biday Bela · Bidrohi. Bidrohi-The Poem & Translation. বিদ্রোহী. – কাজী নজরুল ইসলাম. বল বীর -. বল উন্নত মম শির! শির নেহারি আমারি, নত-শির ওই শিখর হিমাদ্রীর! বল বীর -.
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Bidrohi (poem) | Revolvy
Slide Show Created by Crazyprofile. Say hold your head high.
Before my head, bows peaks of Himalayas. Your cries hails piercing skies and universes. Travels beyond moons and suns and galaxies. Piercing the earths and the bidroih.
Bidrohi (poem) – Wikipedia
Challenging the seat “throne” of the Almighty. It raises in eternal wonder among World’s destinies. On my forehead glows the angry God’s emblem of victories. I am who holds head high.
I am eternally wild, arrogant, and barbarian. I am the dancer of the great cataclysm, I am cyclone, I am destruction. I am the great fear, I am curse of the universe. I am chaotic, unchained.
I defy all rules, all laws and chains. I do not follow any rule. I sink a filled boat, I am torpedo, I am profane, I am wafting mine. I am a God with untidy hairdo, or Goddess with untied hairs. I am rainstorm, I am hurricane. I destroy everything that comes in my way. I am dance crazy beat. I dance at my will, I am life’s free upbeat.
I am the night tune, I am dark dramatist, I am mystic strain. I am poignant agitation, caper and dance. I surprise as I walk down the way. I prance as I sway. I am excited night melody.
I do whatever my heart desires. Wrestle with death, embrace enemies. I am epidemic, I am fear of the land. I am tyrant ruler, for slaughter I am ever restless. I am indomitably naughty forever. I am the pyres of sacrificial rites, I am devout meditator, I devour fire.
I am kkobita fire, I am the priest father, I am the ultimate fire. I am the creation, I am destruction, I am habituation, I am crematorium. I am the conclusion, Kobitq am the darkest salvation. On my one hand is tender flute of cane and on the other a war trumpet.
Kogita am the one with blue throat, relieve pains of lover by drinking virulent. I am the one with untidy knotted hairlocks, I hold unchained streams of Ganges. I am the one who holds head high. I am ascetic, the musician. I am prince, my royal robe is pale saffron.
I am Bedouin, I am Chenghiz. I worship none other but me. I am thunder, I am the great universal sound of northeast. I am the ornament of the burning Islamic angel, the mighty blast. I am the musical instrument of the destroyer, the staff of the upholder of the truth. I am the eternal circlet and the primary musical instrument-the great conch.
I am the primeval cry of the gong. I am an eccentric ascetic and a disciple of a great saint. I am the conflagration, shall burn the entire planet. I am the ecstatic laughter of delight,- I am a terror-believer of iconoclasm.
I am the great gobbler of the twelve suns during the great cataclysm. I am sometimes calm, sometimes wild, terribly disorderly. I am the glowing blood of the youth, humble pride of the destiny. I am violet gust of a storm, I am delightful wave of ocean. I am brilliance, I am radiant elegance. I am sound of surging waters, sways of rolling waves! I am unbridled hairs of a maiden whose big eyes flash with fires.
I am uncontrolled romance of a maid of sixteen, blessed as in paradise. I am unquiet mind of a sad maid.
I am in breasts of a widow as her sobs and sighs. I am the swindled pain of the gypsies, eternal homeless traveler. I am the extreme pain of the humiliated, the burning sensation of poison. I am the vanity of the eternally distressed soul’s grief, deeply entrenched pain. Sudden-kiss-hidden-shivers, I am the trembling- quivering frail first touch of a woman.
I am the sudden glance of secret lover who by deception meets for moments. I am the love of a lively girl, the jingles of her bangles. I am the eternal child, youth forever. I am village maid afraid of adolescence, the scratch of veil on shoulder.
I am northern blizzard, fading fire, saddened eastern breeze. I am the strains of a traveler poet, his cane flute’s wheeze. I am an eager thirst of summer, I am the scorching bidroni Sun.
I am cascading desert stream, I am soothing shadowy tone. I rush in euphoric joys, its insane, I am insane. I suddenly discovered myself, unchained are my chains. I am the rise, I am the fall, I am the alertness of unconscious mentality. I am the sign on the gate of the world, the triumphant flag of humanity. I rush forward clapping alike the storm traversing the heaven and this territory. I am a volcano on the bosom of the earth, the wild fire, the divine conflagration. I am a burning rock in the hell-its wail-call-clamorous agitation.
I fly with speed of lightning, leaping in exultation. I suddenly generate terror in seven worlds, initiate earthquake bidrhi undulation. I clasp the head of mythological cobra of Hindus. I clasp the blazing wings of the Christian consul. I am the son of God, I am restless.
I am lewd, I tear with my teeth the bosom ,obita of mother earth. I am the flute of the ancient Greek charmer. I calm the turbulent oceans. I kiss sleep to entire world and draw them in slumber. In strains kobiha flute I endear.
I am the cane flute of the Hindu universal lover. When I become angry, I traverse beyond galaxies. Defeating hell of Hindus and trampling the quivering infernos of Muslims. I am the emissary of rebellions, bring message of revolt to earth from skies. I sometimes enrich earth sometime wreck devastation. I shall snatch from the God’s bust the epitomes of wealth and erudition. I am injustice, I am shooting star, I am evil luck.