Bengali is my mother tongue,
International
The heart builds immortal,
Multidimensional
In the winter, the dewy grass,
Simply put, that flowers just go to the minarets.
The heart is in the center of the body
Listening to self-sacrifice,
They have been martyred in the center of Modi
Mother tongue language
You always remember,
On the 21st of February;
So fill the respect for the floral,
The tower premises.

Martyr's blood was wet
The Highway of Bengal,
Want to keep their memory alive?
This is our oath .