In the emerald heart where the mist descends,
The winding trail of the mountain bends.
Chandra-nath stands with its head in the sky,
Watching the eagles and the clouds drift by.
The silver cascading of a hidden stream,
Like a crystal thread in a wanderer's dream.
The Khoiyachhora falls with a thunderous grace,
In the velvet shadows of a wild embrace.
The bamboo rustles in the mountain breeze,
A song of the spirits through the ancient trees.
With every step on the rocky stair,
The scent of the wild is thick in the air.
The mirror of water in the Guliyakhali shore,
Where the mountains meet the ocean's roar.
A sanctuary carved in the green and the gray,
To wash the dust of the city away.
It's the rugged soul of our coastal land,
Sculpted by nature's majestic hand.
Where the silence speaks and the heart can fly,
Under the arch of a Chittagong sky.