My head is down to you Almighty,
My humblest gratitude surely goes to you
For, you have sent me to this Earth,
Where the nature with its bounty is always
Alive and fresh everywhere.
Here a day breaks with the glory of heaven
Allover but the day’s king disappears into
The horizon in a silent expression of despair.
Here a river paints the serene smile
Of a virgin on the mirror of blue sky,
Here a piece of cloud carries the message of
Love for a fiancée to a remote village,
Here the nature wakes up from the night-long
Slumber by the holy touch of divine melody
From the Muazzin’s Azan, “Allahu Akbar.”
Here you have sketched out a sacred variety
On a vast canvass with trees, rivers, flowers
And the lush green meadows allover.
Here the hills sleep down by the soft touch
Of someone not sighted,
Paddy fields dance like the naughtiest
Village girls who often disobey their mothers.
Here a cowboy playing a bamboo flute
Drives his herds to the grasslands everyday,
A farmer forgets the exhaustion of daylong
Labour while back home to soak his cheeks by
The sweat of beloved wife,
Here the sun builds a bridge everyday, then sinks
And then falls twilight allover inviting the solemn
Silence of the night.
Here a pearly mist faintly tinged with green
Hangs over a lake, where a mass of lotus spreads
A virgin’s beauty,
Here in appraising glance, everyone sees
Everyone’s face expectantly in earnest zeal.
Here a bride shuts up doors after a day’s fall
To rediscover the sovereignty of her own
But a mother only keeps her tearful eyes fixed
To the winding path for her son to return home.
My humblest gratitude surely goes to you
For, you have sent me to this Earth,
Where the nature with its bounty is always
Alive and fresh everywhere.
Here a day breaks with the glory of heaven
Allover but the day’s king disappears into
The horizon in a silent expression of despair.
Here a river paints the serene smile
Of a virgin on the mirror of blue sky,
Here a piece of cloud carries the message of
Love for a fiancée to a remote village,
Here the nature wakes up from the night-long
Slumber by the holy touch of divine melody
From the Muazzin’s Azan, “Allahu Akbar.”
Here you have sketched out a sacred variety
On a vast canvass with trees, rivers, flowers
And the lush green meadows allover.
Here the hills sleep down by the soft touch
Of someone not sighted,
Paddy fields dance like the naughtiest
Village girls who often disobey their mothers.
Here a cowboy playing a bamboo flute
Drives his herds to the grasslands everyday,
A farmer forgets the exhaustion of daylong
Labour while back home to soak his cheeks by
The sweat of beloved wife,
Here the sun builds a bridge everyday, then sinks
And then falls twilight allover inviting the solemn
Silence of the night.
Here a pearly mist faintly tinged with green
Hangs over a lake, where a mass of lotus spreads
A virgin’s beauty,
Here in appraising glance, everyone sees
Everyone’s face expectantly in earnest zeal.
Here a bride shuts up doors after a day’s fall
To rediscover the sovereignty of her own
But a mother only keeps her tearful eyes fixed
To the winding path for her son to return home.
