Poet SABYASACHI NAZRUL is born on 5 May 1988 in Shariatpur district of Bangladesh to an aristocratic Muslim family. He is a Medical Technologist (Diploma in MTSIT). He was fond of literature and started writing poems, rhymes, story when 10 years age. He has 17th joints books and two own books one is ‘ Sapna Uran ‘ another is manuscripts award winning ‘ Eakti Tarjonir Isara ‘ and editing a literary magazine ‘ kirtinashar kirti ‘, he received many awards. His works have been published in National newspapers, magazines of Bangladesh and also published in various literary journals, magazines in India, West Bengal, UK, USA, Italy, Canada, China, South Africa, Nepal, Singapore, Egypt, Tunisia, Costa Rica, Trinidad and Tobago, Pakistan, Argentina, Colombia, Nigeria, Croatia, Spain, Greece, Middle East, Uzbekistan. His works have been translated into English, Arabic, French, Albanian, Indians, Colombian, Spanish, Croatian, Nepalese. Government employee the Author is the president of a govt primary school, Founder President Sapna Uran international literature and Cultural Parishad, Ambassador of The International Cultural Salon Association. He working for poetry has no borders, Let’s poetry win poets are win.

Dream flight

Oh, millions of dreamy flying birds nourished chest!

In a full moon full of light

In the blue sky of Jotsna

Jhirijhiri dream flight.

I feel dear to my soul

Cute golden bird!

Fearless in both wings,

Float in the dreamy golden sky.

Never lost like a dream bird,

In the last hours of waiting for the end of the dream –

Vera’s indomitable determination in the team of stars.

But concentrate in front of your impeccably beautiful eyebrows, two eyes,

After someone’s bowl volner ratnar rice

Why back,

Tell me to stop like a place?

Look at that distant drink ..

Mom opened the door to the success of hundreds of dreams!

But why the delay,

Go ahead with a strong oath on the right path!

                                            Date of composition: 3/2/2012

Evening raw juice

Hey Shimul, when is the real pond?

Feeling dry! Khasani understand at noon?

The two of them played Naidub for a while

Let’s play water like mind.

In the fields on the south side of the house,

Oral’s sister walks on two legs.

I’ll go home together after the bath,

Two friends will eat too, I will empty the pot.

After eating, let’s match Shui Pa’dukhani,

Ronnie Johnny They all understand and play on the field.

Today all the friends are in a commotion,

I will go to the bill of that terrible Kalahajhara!

Hanging pots on date palms in Bakka’s field

Great fun to eat raw juice in the evening.



I can’t stand the pain of separation, oh

Floating endless tears,

At this time, why the burning mind under the wood!

The afflicted heart burns, only burns.

Dilapidated dreams are shattered in perforated clothes

Going through the net of current;

How many nights sleepless movement is powerless

I’m swinging in the pendulum, whose rice?

Woe to the stone in the dolachale katara pain

There are always thorns in the side of the mind;

Burning on fire,

Only burning in the morning-evening-evening.

I can’t get back the lost memory!

The happy bird is in the crowd of clouds;

Sing the song of pain in the lonely doorway,

I know he will never return!

Oh, hardships increase strength

It pierces the bones like a trident.

Writing period: 10/5/2018

I will eat mango paste

Sabyasachi Nazrul

I will go to my mama’s house tomorrow for school holidays

I will eat salt and pepper mixed with mango in Kasundi.

Big Di’bhai kuchakuchiye batite mango coat

Seasonal day is short to bring lemon leaves.

Mejh di and sejh di are mixed together

Mama Mami also sits in the south yard and eats it.

If you eat all the mangoes, you will go down to the water

Nana dake aay khabi chal bela boye chale.

At noon fun fair everyone eats mango macha

Mama’s homemade mango is so fun, so no.

                                                                         Date of composition: 13/4/2018


Sabyasachi Nazrul

Light lost in darkness …

Dreamy two eyes, face, chest, lost consciousness.

Assam Himachal, hills, rivers, caves

And the sky!

Your loose hair, my hundred mistakes;

The waterfalls in our waterfalls,

Do they understand today?

Setara is playing softly to the tune of your own,

The tune is not coming to the ears!

Have to go far …

A little zero, no no …

Darkness breaks before dawn,

Let’s run, we have to go through the imperfect chest of time.

                                                                                     Writing period: 10/12/2019

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