Your rise to power is the victory of humanity;
You, the real son of America, have saved
your country from disgrace.

Sometimes I ask to myself, 'Is he greater
than Nelson Mandela? '
You may be greater than he or he than you-
it's not the matter; the fact is:
both of you have built the bridge of love
between the black and the white;
and both of you have sung
the song of equality.

I see Abraham Lincoln in you;
In you, I see Martin Luther King.
Now the flag of America glitters like the Sun
because it is at your hand.

I neither wonder looking at the Pacific Ocean
nor I wonder looking at the Himalayas;
Only I wonder when I look at you
because I see in you the infinite waves
of beauty of a man;
because I see in you the iron-like firmness
of truth of a man.

You knew well, it is truth
which makes a man great
and it is truth
which creates beauty in a man;
All colors get defeated to such a beauty.

About Sayeed Abubakar

Sayeed Abubakar, a major modern poet of Bangladesh, was born on September 21,1972 at Rambhodrapur, Panjia, Keshabpur, Jessore. His father was Nur Mohammad Biswas and mother Amena Khatun. Literary Life: Sayeed Abubakar started writing poems at a very early age. He was then only 11. Many of those poems were published in the local newspapers of Jessore and Khulna namely `The Daily Sphulingo', 'The Daily Ranar', 'The Daily Purbanchal', 'The Daily Janmabhumi' and so on. He used to compose 60-70 poems every day, for he was determined to defeat Rabindranath Tagore by the number of poems. Reason is that Rabindranath... Read more...

Poet of the day

a Baltimore housewife and florist, best known as the author of the poem "Do not stand at my grave and weep," written in 1932.

She was born Mary Elizabeth Clark, and was orphaned at the age of three. In 1927 she married Claud Frye.

The identity of the author of...

Poem of the day

My mother would be a falconress,
And I, her gay falcon treading her wrist,
would fly to bring back
from the blue of the sky to her, bleeding, a prize,
where I dream in my little hood with many bells
jangling when I'd turn my...