Global Compact | Bangladesh

The Glory of the Circle 

(Written by: Altaf Hossain Uzzal)

If the Earth were shaped as a square—

There would be edges, and an ultimate fare.

A walk would end in finality's sigh,

No reunion would bloom beneath the sky.

But the Earth is a circle—an enchanted line,

Where even ends have no clear sign.

When you go, you return—in an eternal loop,

Where life revolves, love spins, and truth recoups.

A circle means forever—no true beginning,

No fear of death, just rebirth's singing.

Where the sun rises, and again will set,

Yet its light flows on, leaving hopeful silhouettes.

The fullness of the moon—a circular poem,

Drawn in silence like a divine emblem.

The wedding ring—a vow in looped grace,

Where love begins and time finds its place.

A sage walks on the path of mendicant prayer,

Bound in a circle of God's subtle care.

Even the lifebuoy on a rescue ship,

Holds life in a circular grip.

My homeland—I love like a sacred round,

It guards my heart, where roots are found.

My weeping, my songs, my sacred quest—

All seek salvation in this soil's breast.

Every circle turns—through whirl or fate,

Toward a center—where God may quietly wait.

His creation—the sun, the moon, the world's spin,

Proves no line is purely straight within.

The circle teaches: love returns again,

And sorrow spins into joy from pain.

Within this circle, I seek the flame—

Of country, of God, of love without name.

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“Where the line ends, the circle begins—

There, God's hand touches human skin.”

— Altaf Hossain Uzzal

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