Sound

The word is the bank of the river Jochna-Nawa,

The word is the crowd at the evening fair.

He is a conch shell at noon,

The word is the Padma Bill.

The sound is the shepherd boy's wide eyes,

The word is that he is a man of the market on the way.

The word is Khokonsona's thin rod,

The word is the reddish tip of Lakshmi-daughter.

The word is the face of the mirror-pair grandmother,

The word is the happiness of eating nakshi back.

The sound is the shout of the middle of the Ganges,

The word is that he is busy calling for a strike.

The word is a new tune tied to the back,

The word is the fresh murder of the heroic martyr.

The word is the end of the sad path,

The word is sunny Bangladesh.