Baa baa Mu-jahid, have you any wool?*
Yes nastik, yes nastik, three bags full!
One for harmer, one for the dame;
And one for the razakar who lives down the lane.
(*Wool to pull over the eyes of Bangladeshis)
Ding dong bell
Azam's in the well
Who put him in?
Bijoy and his kin
Who pulled him out?
An anti-liberation tout.
Oh! What a naughty boy was that?
To try and drown head of Jamaat,
Who ne'er did any harm
But kill all the people
In his own municipal!
Humpty Mollah slipped thru the ain,
Dumpty Mollah showed the V-sign,
All the Tikka's horses, And all the Yahya's men
Cannot stop Mollah from being on the dock again!
Saqa had a little house, its wall was white as snow;
And everywhere that Saqa went, Pak bahini was sure to go.
They followed him to the house every day, set atop a hill;
They made the unarmed run and cry, as they did kill at will.
They prayed they may leave, but still the hanadar lingered near,
And waited patiently about till Saqa did appear.
"Why does the Paki love Saqa so?" the Bangalee did cry;
"Why, Saqa loves the Paki, you know" the killers did reply
Nizami and Niazi were all too raji to fetch a pail of blood
They shot down enough in the town
To make a river of scarlet flood.
Up to Nizami, who would die
To make Niazi mighty glad
He went to bed and bound his head
The victim was no more than a lad.
Dhikkar, Dhikkar, Kamruzzaman,
How I wonder are you a man?
Down below the sewer so low,
Like a gaddar in the flow
Wee Wily Saidee runs through the town,
Upstairs and downstairs with his wry frown,
Tapping at the window and crying through the lock,
Are there any mukti inside, it's time to kill them in a flock?
(Collected for Swadhinata Projonma Chattar)