Praise for the Country
At the very beginning praise the liberated Bangladesh
Sufferings of the liberated land were not deported yet.
Then I salute motherly homeland
Blood stained mother, mine destitute mother land.
Praising Bangabandhu Mujib who
Sacrificed life to free motherland,
Begging pardon from him and
Start crossing the mighty ocean by remembering him.
Keeping his name in mind raising voice, "Badar, Badar"
I steer the boat, sail boat by his name
His name is known all over the world
Whenever recollect him I cry silently
I will write an epic on them who
Had sacrificed life in freedom fight
Those who sacrificed lives for Bangla Vasa
Singing the songs of life by remembering them
Rafique Salam, Barkat, Jabbar, the lovers of mother tongue
Protect the value at the cost of their lives.
Pitched road were washed away by Matiur's blood.
We have not forgotten ‘69 yet.
The nation has not forgotten November '70,
Lacs of people had died on the beach by cyclone.
Bangalees had won the election in '70,
Then Pakistani rulers got frightened.
History of 1971 is known to all,
How can we forget the pains?
Bangla got victory after a blood shed war
Let us say Joy Banglar Joy.
Freedom's flower bloomed in the courtyard,
After lives of lacs of people had sacrificed.
Bangla was liberated by the spiritual spell of Bangabandhu,
Named Bangladesh which is immeasurable significant.
Autocrats established terrorism in that Sonar Bangla
After floods of blood country was not develop by eras.
Good people are still lament for mental agony
And fundamental elements cried in the trap.
Bangabandhu was killed by local attackers,
Yet today Sonar Bangla is in howling.
I hate that gang of killers,
Countrymen have not forgotten that occurrence.
Where do we get such a patriot of the country?
Everything is in the country except the father.
Who told he is not, he is in our mind,
Crazy Rabin will remember him forever.
Who told he is not, he is in every house,
He is in the mind of everybody.
Let say Mujib, Mujib, let say Joy Bangla,
Let say Joy Bangla, let say Mujib Mujib…
poem by Rabindra Gope
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Bangla Desh
My friend came to me, with sadness in his eyes
He told me that he wanted help
Before his country dies
Although I couldnt feel the pain, I knew I had to try
Now Im asking all of you
To help us save some lives
Bangla desh, bangla desh
Where so many people are dying fast
And it sure looks like a mess
Ive never seen such distress
Now wont you lend your hand and understand
Relieve the people of bangla desh
Bangla desh, bangla desh
Such a great disaster - I dont understand
But it sure looks like a mess
Ive never known such distress
Now please dont turn away, I want to hear you say
Relieve the people of bangla desh
Relieve bangla desh
Bangla desh, bangla desh
Now it may seem so far from where we all are
Its something we cant neglect
Its something I cant neglect
Now wont you give some bread to get the starving fed
Weve got to relieve bangla desh
Relieve the people of bangla desh
Weve got to relieve bangla desh
Relieve the people of bangla desh
song performed by by George Harrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Portugal Manoel Da Assumpcam Missionary.
'Portugal Manoel Da Assumpcam
Amar Sonar Moyna Pakki Amigo,
I never seen you in my live ever before
Which Country are you from?
My dear amigo Manoel Da Assumpcam.
Your colour of heritage in unknown Land l fear to bear your name in word.
I can't bear to missed you my amigo, Oh yes it can't be forgot either
You have contributed your nameless name in the nation without name
To influence other and to form the crowd in unknown Land,
Where are you from Sir?
And to shape not my nationalities in Language in Culture but yours!
The present Language in Bangla o' my dear amigo never was counted by.
You may be nothing To Government of Portugal than but today.
Priceless name in the heart of people's in the unknown Land.
I have nothing to say in Language Portuguese other than to say thank you.
For teaching and advocating me in Language in Bangla
That nation today celebrates every year.
With their tears on their eyes and face.
Bear to say words other than few minute in silent,
As orphanage children's looking at each other face.
Remembering those who gave their words in Bangla and live for.
And today I believe in visual hallucination it's not too late
to say how much I love you in Language in Bangla ‘Nil Dariar Prem'
The Birth of new Generation in Culture in Bangla.
Almost was given birth after more than three century in Bangla
'Inna-Lilla-He-O-Inna-He-La-He-Ra-Je-Ow n'
When will I met you?
Day of Kiamot is to far from Bay of Bengal to Portugal.
The mother of all living things on Earth,
Singing in the name of Almighty Lord ‘Allah' too
In the soil of unknown Land in British India my not his or her love.
How lucky you was never assassinated by knowing you was pigeons,
As Bongo Bandhu,
First Prime Ministers of Bangladesh.
I miss you ‘Manoel Da Assumpcam'
Your name prescribed in Language Bangla by name
'Shaheed Minar'
Capital City o Bangladesh.
By name once was known Dac-ca' now became ‘DHA-KA'
Your name in my Language Mother tongues days and nights,
‘Joy Bangla'
To Miss you my dear amigo you left us under your own broken umbrella.
Sheltered under the cloud of sky,
Falling rain without control
And under the wings in tender years since 1734,
To wonder rest of entire life.
Though the blind cloud of smoke it was I thought ‘Bangla' was not mine.
Sometimes I think who ‘Manoel Da Assumpcam' ever was!
When my lonely mind is clear from suspicious.
As guilty mind always does.
I bear to take no medication tablet of Seroxat or Zyprexa
Instead of Ritual Five Times a Days.
But try to concentrate British national favourite's news paper Sun page 3?
To Comfort your medical Doctors buried alive human being,
Under the false Knowledge of medication on earth from Editor!
I was searching British pornographic Internet sites
With Former British Rt. Hon. Jacqui Smith,
Which news paper you were reading at the time In British India?
Almost fourteen million people have gone crazy for Language Bangla?
Instead of Declaring their own Country.
'The Islamic Bangla States of Portugal'
Million of citizen's by name in Bangla never heard of
‘Manoel Da Assumpcam'
The mother of all creatures in the Land of Bangla,
After name of Almighty Lord Allah.
I wonder who was your mother she may be was not Bengali,
As My great Grand Mother?
But never had any Bangla Kitab other than Urdu.
That when in times under the shadow of his or her love today in vain I follow.
The gift of Language Bangla existence in the domiciles in the Land of Bangladesh.
After nine month of struggle in Culture in Bangla.
To me to demonstrate in History, Culture, Heritage, Religion, and in Revelation
Your Language in Bangla treasure under my chest as always ashes,
As cloud in my lonely heart From time to time days and nights.
Without medical tablets Zantac, (Ranitidine) .
Today Translated Holy Bible Quran in Language Bangla Instead of in Portuguese.
You are the hero in the eyes of the historian in the nation after three century.
In a moment every one caught in reflections of waves of sea
The melody wave's of sound in Bangla ‘Nistur Bandhu' Song's.
I see and hear thought the water reflection your loving name
In Bilingual's Language,
Instead of in your own Generation in Portugal?
It a shame on Government of Portugal to Ignore the own citizen's right,
When the Foreign Government of Bangladesh paid in full
Under the E.E.C. European Country Law and Order they agree
By adapting your Language without packet of N.H.S. Condoms,
‘Joy Bangla'
Salam, Barkat, Rafique, and Jabbar
To name few died 21st February 1952 for the name of Languages
'BANGLA'
What a magic Literature in Bangla prescribed by?
Today my self proud of writing's in Bangla Book of Poetry 'Nil Dariar Prem'
Today nation by cast surprise by the out come of Language Bangla in victory.
Almost every corner of the world by name known
‘Bangla'
Instead of Fish and Chip shop in England.
Prime Minister of West Pakistan tries to hide from the world
'Urdu'
Was his native Language to dominate the world but failure?
In the eyes of the European Country Citizen love
Written in Bangla not year but many Centuries ago.
West Pakistan Prime Minister was not aware of history
May Language Bangla it returns to your generations and multiplied by?
Without giving life as martyrs
May Lord raises your Generation up and called you in Bangla,
'Amar Sonar Portugal'
Brother ‘Manoel Da Assumpcam'
Given us to lead the Country Portugal.
And bless their Lord in Language Arabic,
'Allahu Akbar'.
Five Times a day in the Land of Portugal.
Those who may never heard of by name as follows,
'Bis-Mil-La-Hir-Rak-Ma-Nir-Ra-Him'
'In the name of Almighty Lord (Allah/God/Dues) , the most merciful and most beneficial of mankind'.
Hope your Portugal Government will never make second mistake
After the century many years yet to come!
When Government of Bangladesh never made any mistake
To honour the Portugal Citizen's, In Bangla the States Language.
‘Manoel Da Assumpcam'
And by name 'In-Nal-La-Alla- Kolli-Shahin- Kadir'
The States Country known as,
'Bangladesh'
When there was no trace of Bangla
Today it called an Independent Country.
Peoples sing a song in the street of Bangla without any fears of.
Bangladesh Is Portugal brother by birth mark?
The first man to advocates Language Bangla from Portugal.
Portugal is the part of Bangladesh
Under the European Law.
May God bless United Nation?
And five Times a Day loud and clear
'Allahu Akbar'
How proud in Heritage and in Revelation
By Portugal Government today?
Day before Yesterday was his or her dreams
Today from Prime Minister to street refugee in tune in Bangla
'Ami Tuma Ka Valo Bashi'
Without invested penny today in the name of his or her love.
How sweet Language in Bangla Peoples cannot tell but
Can sing a song in the name of love
'Amar Sonar Bangla'
'Ami Tumay Valo Bashi'
You are my living star in my lonely entire life
Left nothing to treasure in your name today,
But your love in shadow of word from by own mouth in Bangla.
Today I feel ashamed to see Peoples of Portugal without
Any Identities in Culture in Revelation in heritage!
Claiming Religion in the name of own Lord
Jesus Christ
In Arabic known as
'He-Sa-Ru-Hu-Lul-La-He'
Do we need to give Portugal Government lesson when our Teacher
‘Manoel Da Assumpcam'
Given us to lead the States in the name of Love?
'Bis-Mil-La-Hir-Rak-Ma-Nir-Ra-Him'
The only name will ever remain in the Land and in the forest.
Another by name out of ninety-nine Lord Jesus Christ father.
'O Governo de Portugal diz que eu não sei,
agindo como cegos e surdos'
Which planet are they from?
In memory of all the Prophet and saints.
Salam, Salam, Dorud of Salam,
Sokol Nobe, Poygambor,
Peer, Fokir, Khaus, and Kotub.
Today I pray to my Lord bless the people's of Portugal and by name
‘Manoel Da Assumpcam'
Declare 'The Islamic Bangla States of Portugal'
Before second City of Tsunami ever strike in the Land of Portugal.
Or E.Coli symptoms occupied out land of farmers?
Today ‘Manoel Da Assumpcam' my brother amigo in Bangla
May not be here but I
On behalf of Bangladesh to say in blind love,
'Eu te amo Portugal e Obrigado a todos? '
And salam, regards and my love to you all,
As oceans of waves in tune in Bangla music?
May God Almighty bless you all?
Regardless of by cast or origin are,
Here in the temporary world of
Once you see dry Land than become lake or as Sea? '
By Abdul Haye Amin. The author's of The Islands Historia De Amor.
poem by Abdul Haye Amin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sheikh Mujib
Friend of Bangladesh –
Lionhearted Sheikh Mujib
Is the nation’s pride!
poem by Asif Andalib
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Glory
At the crowded gangway they kissed good-bye.
He had half a mind to scold her.
An officer's mother and not keep dry
The epaulet on his shoulder.
He had forgotten mother and fame,
His mind in a blood-mist floated,
But when reeling back from carnage they came,
One told him: "You are promoted!"
His friend smiled up from the wet red sand,
The look was afar, eternal,
But he tried to salute with his shattered hand:
"Room now for another colonel!"
Again he raged in that lurid hell
Where the country he loved had thrown him.
"You are promoted!" shrieked a shell.
His mother would not have known him.
poem by Katharine Lee Bates
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Remember those Martyrs
Remember those, who sacrificed their lives,
Remember those, who died for our safer life,
Remember those, who never returned home,
Didn't abandon their guns, wet in blood though.
We were eating cakes, they were facing bullets,
We were dancing in clubs, they were missing inmates,
Laying on bed of death they wished best to countrymen,
Not caring self, they went on the voyage to heaven.
Remember those braves, our land who protected.
Remember those soldiers, left us behind; indebted.
They were proud of country, we are proud of them.
They would live forever, who died for the motherland.
They didn't fight for power or fame, wealth or gain;
They had a commitment and love for the motherland.
Gun hanged on his shoulder, portrait of a soldier;
have hanged in my room, his sacrifice I always remember.
(c) S D Tiwari
poem by S.D. Tiwari
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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15th August to Bengali people
Mourn
It's a command I demmand you
mourn, fool and so ignorant
you must mourn
History is clear, amazingly open
and you still say you don't know that
a pity, I must say you should mourn,
you deserve no sympathy, you lost all
In this caged race, they will dominate, a few
and you so enormous don't understand
what you lost, your root
you must mourn, you want deception, prefer ambiguity
afraid! I have no sympathy
my poor fellow, beloved countrymen
you must mourn.
Note: Bengali people still today say they don't know the real history of their liberation war. What a shame! Actually everybody knows the history because there is no two story. we faught and liberate our country. And then some collabratore killed the Father of the nation Sheikh Mujibur Rahman in 15th August 1975. To confuse all they say we do not know the real history of liberation war. but actually there is no real history, as history is one. And it is, Sheikh Mujib was the mastermind of our leberation. A handfull of Biheris and west pakistany settlers and their sympathesizers run the country after 1975 and still conspiring against Bengali people. they speak in Bengali, but they hate Bengali. and Bengali people do not still understand this and do not realize what they lost. Alas!
poem by Humayun Nasir
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The Worthless
Swimming across a river-edge,
a tiger came to a village;
a burning fire-bright tiger;
whichever house he visit
they offer him stool to sit.
Once a poor farmer made him plough his field,
a helpless old man made him carry his load.
He is in good terms with the sad harlot
who lives in the margin of the village.
He tried to preach no religion,
he died also like the typically worthless folks!
(Translated from Bangla by Raihan Sharif)
poem by Rayhan Rhyne
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Pledge Allegiance
I pledge allegiance to this land
Where heroes protect every woman and man
The flag that represents freedom and choice
The flag that gives us all a free voice
And on September 11th, when our nation was attacked
We all came together and we fought back
In the midst of terror, many heroes died
They fought to save others and in the end sacrificed their lives
They didn't think twice as they ran toward the fallen cries
All they could think about was to save those victims' lives
Though they have fallen we can still hear freedom ringing in their voice
From the battlefields to the white house we all had to learn to survive
The tragedies on September 11th left a whole nation to mourn and cry
Now we live on to protect our flag's integrity
From the people who just don't seem to see what our nation sees
Though they attack us, never will we fall
I give a salute to the firefighters and soldiers lost on that day
Together we mourn for the victims who had to lose their lives that way
But in their deaths, our nation finally saw
That no matter how much they try, together we cannot fall
So, I pledge allegiance to this land
Where heroes protect every woman and man
poem by Tamara Moir
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bangla
Bangla
Aami
Bhalobaashi!
Porte
Paari,
Likhte
Paari Na: (
Kaukhono
Kanna Paaye,
Kaukhono
Haanshi :)
____________
I love
Bengali!
Know
How to
Read,
Not to
Write: (
Sometimes,
It makes me
Cry…
Sometimes,
I laugh at my
Plight :)
(Poem themed on Language)
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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In Memory of Those who Fought and Died-Part I
The day the tears dried on your loved ones' faces...
The day those men in uniform carried your casket
to your last resting place...
The day the solemn sound of the bugle
was heard once and for all - in your name...
by your friends, comrades-in-arms, relatives
and mourners you did not even know...
The day that you did not hear the 21-gun salute
were fired not towards the enemy but
in your honor in deafening silence...
The day when they folded the flag neatly on
your funeral service then handed this
'gift of life' to your grieving mom and dad,
your spouse, your son, your daughter,
your brother or sister...
Was the day - the beginning...
you were forever remembered!
You are not forgotten and never will,
my buddy...my comrade.
As long as the stars and stripes,
fly proudly in every 50 states
...you will be remembered because
you are part of that flag.
Yes, you are even part of those
who abuse and misuse this so-called
precious freedom that you have died for.
They, too, are indebted to you.
The freedom we have now -
we may not cherished were it not
for your bravery, patriotism and the lives
you sacrificed to fight it with.
Freedom to argue; freedom to protest
and demonstrate; freedom to vote and
not to vote, freedom to elect our leaders
and damn them too; freedom to burn the flag -
Let them be!
That is what real freedom is all about.
America will always be a great nation,
today, tomorrow and forever...
because of you!
poem by Don Allan Dinio
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Own hate - hate growN
Spasms of freedom, build into a gun - Fighting for the land belonging to your father, and his fathers father, yet killed when the field was seized - Daughters without fathers, sons with far less brothers, debt by death to the dictators - The rulers of decay, their way, they know only one way - The war brought forth, the one too civil, against the people of your country - Own hate, hate growN - The land, by which you are to weak, alone to stand - The have to believe, by the suffering of the innocent, the sadness in sorrow, is peace - By the driven machine, the slaughter house of death, the king of war - Victory By The Blood On Your Hands.
poem by Unic Cjonr
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Syria
Is this the end of the world?
What have happened to you world?
Why you became so savage and your brutality is hard to be told
It's breaking my heart to millions of pieces
While the children of the same country
Brothers.........
People who have the same nationality are killing, hurting.destroying each other
Motherland Syria you are wounded my dear land
You're crying blood because It's hard for a mother to behold
I know your heart is broken the most
It's hard for a mother to bear this ugly reality which is unbelievable and destroys A mother's heart the most
When brothers hurt each other
Nothing stood in the world the same
After today nothing could be the same
The world has lost its measures and all theories have been changed
Everything has became above the ability to be understood
When the pity from the world is lost
While the brother is wishing death for his brother
When the hungry eyes of the people are gazing around
As the animals in the jungles looking for blood
To satisfy their hunger
What else left yet world?
More ugliness tell us world?
Do you have more?
poem by Sossi Khachadourian
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In Celebration Of A Holiday
Yes I am a veteran,
Of a life given that is well experienced.
And on Memorial Day,
I think of my parents, grandparents...
And lives of my ancestors also veterans,
Of living lives in the doing for others.
My mind on this day,
Is not only on those who sacrificed their lives...
Wearing a uniform to serve time in the military.
I think of those who have sacrificed their lives,
For beliefs kept many today take for granted...
Just to eat and drink in celebration of a holiday.
Only to be glad to spend time away,
From a regular routine.
Yes I am a veteran,
Of a life given that is well experienced.
And on Memorial Day,
I think of my parents, grandparents...
And lives of my ancestors also veterans,
Of living lives in the doing for others.
And the doing for others many who have passed on,
And done...
Should on this day be always remembered.
And as far as wars, destruction and the loss of life goes?
There is nothing about the act of it that is worthy of celebration.
However...
The showing of an appreciation is a more honorable expression,
Than the rushing to feed one's greed as a priority...
To prove a loyalty in the doing of it!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Freedom Fighter!
What is the use of having too much freedom,
When one fourth of you can't survive without a job,
After fourteen days in the western countries?
Liberty of having shelter, food and essentials are at stake,
One has no job and qualified to be cared and fed,
You are left to do whatever you like,
But your dialysis patients are faster to rest,
One dollar medicines are sold in many money fold,
Health care system is a scam and swindle.
You are rich, but indebted to every money lender,
How can you sleep peacefully with so many doubts,
You have sacrificed so much to get this freedom,
Sacrificed your freedom itself as you are given a timetable,
When mortgages, money and worldly things so crucial,
You have sacrificed many of your obligations essential.
Your children are still young at eighteen, but chased out,
In the name of freedom you showed them the path to hell,
Foul languages abundantly used even with parents and elders,
Parents are equally good at retaliation, if not the best,
Your women abandoned many of you to seek the solace,
In the bottles of alcohol and the road side mistresses,
What freedom are you talking about, when your mind is not free,
In certain places, people are happy and smile, as they are debt free.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Authorship
You say that father write a lot of books, but what he write I don't
understand.
He was reading to you all the evening, but could you really
make out what he meant?
What nice stores, mother, you can tell us! Why can't father
write like that, I wonder?
Did he never hear from his own mother stories of giants and
fairies and princesses?
Has he forgotten them all?
Often when he gets late for his bath you have to and call him
an hundred times.
You wait and keep his dishes warm for him, but he goes on
writing and forgets.
Father always plays at making books.
If ever I go to play in father's room, you come and call me,
"What a naughty child!"
If I make the slightest noise you say, "Don't you see that
father's at his work?"
What's the fun of always writing and writing?
When I take up father's pen or pencil and write upon his book
just as he does,-a,b,c,d,e,f,g,h,i,-why do you get cross with me
then, mother?
You never say a word when father writes.
When my father wastes such heaps of paper, mother, you don't
seem to mind at all.
But if I take only one sheet to take a boat with, you say,
"Child, how troublesome you are!"
What do you think of father's spoiling sheets and sheets of
paper with black marks all over both sides?
poem by Rabindranath Tagore
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The Cost Of Freedom
He died serving our country,
in a land far away.
He gave his life for freedom.
They buried him today.
He loved family more than life,
and had to do what's right.
To protect them and his country,
he joined in the fight.
Next time you see a soldier,
don't just pass him by.
Thank him for his service.
81415He might be next to die.
How great the cost of freedom.
How brave those who defend.
Protect them Lord, that they may
safely come back home again.
poem by Ron Tranmer
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A Soldier's Poem
There is a time when sounds of war will ring
And songs of Liberty and Freedom we will sing. As the brave soldier stands at the point of fight,
he or she may fear for what is right. For the reasons of war; land, power, hunger or greed,
We know to maintain peace, I guess "War" is what we need So as the soldier stands at the eye of his enemy,
He shoots the enemy down and prays for his eternity. Only God knows who is right or who is wrong
but with God's strength our country shall stand strong And for the lives that suffered, we will mourn
Because of them our flag shall not be torn! Let us learn and remember the important of peace,
And pray to God for this War to cease! "Desert Storm 90-91"
A mission never to be forgotten"
poem by Melissa L. Phillips
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Terrorism: War Of Today
TERRORISM, WA OF TODAY
mELVIN bANGOLLAY
This world we lived outlived many war
The war against nation's tyranny
Racial vindication for the weak country
Has made volumes of war history
Of terrorism against all humanity.
Today the war against terrorism
Still waging as a way of showing idealism
By some groups of people with dynamism
To take the lives of innocent victims
By the power of their goons extremism.
Everybody should be aware today
That terrorist knows no limit or boundary
To put the lives of many at their mercy
In their desire to see death everyday
As their joy and ultimate trophy of victory.
We should not let this be an act of patriotism
For the terrorist believes in this idealism
That to take the lives of Christians and Muslims
Is an act of greatness and noble living
For Allah or the Father God dislike this offering.
Along with all Poets in every land or country
I fervently appear to wage war against terror's fury;
I strongly believed that through our pen today
We can heal the wounds of war and tyranny
And light terrorist minds to stop their advocacy.
poem by Melvin Banggollay
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Edward, Edward
'Why does your sword so drip with blood,
Edward, Edward?
Why does your sword so drip with blood?
And why so sad are ye, O?'
'O, I have killed my hawk so good,
Mother, mother:
O I have killed my hawk so good:
And I had no more but he, O.'
'Your hawk's blood was never so red,
Edward, Edward:
Your hawk’s blood was never so red,
My dear son I tell thee, O.'
'O, I have killed my red-roan steed,
Mother, mother:
O, I have killed my red-roan steed,
That once was so fair and free, O.'
'Your steed was old, and we have got more,
Edward, Edward:
Your steed was old, and we have got more,
Some other evil ye fear, O.'
'O, I have killed my father dear,
Mother, mother:
O, I have killed my father dear,
Alas! and woe is me, O!'
'And what penance will ye suffer for that,
Edward, Edward?
And what penance will ye suffer for that?
My dear son, now tell me, O.'
'I'll set my feet in yonder boat,
Mother, mother:
I’ll set my feet in yonder boat,
And I’ll fare over the sea, O.'
'And what will ye do with your towers and your halls,
Edward, Edward?
And what will ye do with your towers and your halls,
That were sae fair to see, O?'
'I’ll let them stand till they down fall,
Mother, mother:
I’ll let them stand till they down fall,
For here never more may I be, O.'
'And what will ye leave to your children and your wife,
Edward, Edward?
And what will ye leave to your children and your wife
When ye go over the sea, O?'
'The world is large, let them beg through life,
Mother, mother:
The world is large, let them beg throw life,
For them never more will I see, O.'
'And what will ye leave to your own mother dear,
Edward, Edward?
And what will ye leave to your own mother dear?
My dear son, now tell me, O.'
'The curse of hell from me shall you bear,
Mother, mother:
The curse of hell from me shall you bear,
Such counsels you gave to me, O.'
poem by by unknown author
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Whose Country Is This?
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of snakes;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of many waters;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of thieves! !
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of people;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of oil;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of earthquakes!
Whose country is this?
it is a land full of lovers;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of volcanoes!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of beautiful flowers;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of hansome men;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of beautiful women;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of roses;
Whose country is this?
it is a land ruled only by men;
Whose country is this?
It is a land without rainfall;
Whose country is this?
It is a land ruled by a woman;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of corruption!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of pirates! !
Whose country is this?
It is a land ruled by law;
Whose country is this?
It is a land controlled by rebels!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of ice;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of pregnant women;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of the sins of Sodom and Gomorrah!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of singers;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of troubles;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of war! !
Whose country is this?
It is a land with the biggest cemetery in the wolrd!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of desert;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of trees;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of pregnant teenagers!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of timber;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of hatred;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of love;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of care;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of peace;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of smokers!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of businesses;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of harlots;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of wise people;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of idiots!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of gold;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of cocoa;
Whose country is this?
It is a alnd full of crabs;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of evil;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of rainfalls;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of ants;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of horses;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of pigs;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of statues;
Whose country is this?
it is a land full of birds;
And so on, and so forth!
Because nature had made them so as we see them around us,
But the wise and fool live together on this earth.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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