When the Flag Burns with Memory

Light spills over the unbroken night,
a slow unveiling,
and the sun of freedom climbs the horizon
like a long-awaited miracle,
sending a trembling pulse
through the heart of a waking nation.

a century of sorrow,
hidden in the iron scent of heroes’ blood,
rises again each December,
a silenced history unlocking its voice,
speaking now with fire and clarity.

Freedom paid for in scarlet sacrifice,
burns in the bold colours of our flag,
red and green glowing like a mother’s
eternal embrace.
Bangladesh, its name pressed deep into the soil,
spoken even in the trembling breath of its enemies,
affirmed in the thunder of our victory.

Where the martyrs rest, courage refuses to decay.
The sacred earth remembers the first bite of freedom,
sharp, intoxicating, unbearably sweet.
The songs of the freedom fighters
lift through the wind like living spirits,
and on this day, December 16,
The heart rises to meet them.

So raise your heads,
walk forward together, beloved comrades.
carry Mujib’s dream with unwavering hands,
and build a Bangladesh reborn,
forged in the fierce light of triumph,
a land where peace sinks its roots deep,
and love burns with a steady, unending flame.

The flag burns with memory,
guard this FLAG,
do not let the hyenas, the razakars,
the shadows of betrayal,
gnaw at the strength we forged in ’71,
the strength that became our faith,
unbreakable, eternal.

Copyright@Farukahmedroni