Still working it abit... but here is a rough draught
Sonar Bangala (Golden Bangladesh)
Lorcan Otway, all rights reserved

We had a land of plenty
It was a land of gold
We produced the lightest muslin
a wonder to behold,
we grew the lightest cotton
the world had ever seen
but it did not please you
our sonar bangla
did not please you

we'd never seen your like before
your skin so pale and wan
when you rode into our village
with your sword and with your gun
mounted on a well fed horse
and acting like a king
but we did not please you
our sonar Bangla
it did not please you

You ruined all our cotton fields
and our weaving industry
to be replaced by fields of common jute
a crop of poverty
you brought divide and conquer
your greatest legacy
still we did not please you
our sonar Bangla did not please you

You partitioned our nation
as you did in many lands
Sir Herbert Risley said he feared us
and we played into his hands
then again you split our country
when India you free,
But we did not please you
our Sonar Bangla
still did not please you

When you British left our nation,
We still were not set free
We were given to Pakistan
though we craved autonomy
Our nationhood was won at last
against bloody tyranny
But you ignored
our Sonar Bangla
we did not please you

Those who gleaned profit
from the destruction of our land
gave us little assistance
held out no helping hand
as we struggled to create
a new democracy
it did not please you
Sonar Bangla
it did not please you

You looked the other way
when our fields turned red with blood
The sectarian hate you nurtured
o're starving fields did flood
famine flood and war you brought
but you never brought us love
Sonar Bangla
it never pleased you
we never pleased you