An Ode on Chittagong Team
A mystic lavish green hilly land
With Saints, blue ocean and sand
Meets the starry sky at night
To give this dampen world a fight.
Sad and departing ships are honking
With hammers, steel workers are banging
For life, for good, for joy, for survival
To turn around the life like a swivel.
Here comes the jocund breeze from the ocean
And asks “Where are they who play so often?
With pride, glory and dejection
But roar when they are in action.”
Now it is a time for a serious cricket
They will get up from their lazy blanket
To give us the best
From the land of the best.