That Small Cottage

Standing on that green hilltop,

Witnessed scars, joys and pangs of such a beautiful village,

A legacy of that all hidden inside,

For making it a memory we live that small cottage.

Looking through that criss-crossed road,

Witnessed holiness, tradition and sanctity of the village,

A glory to understand hidden all inside,

For that to cherish we reside that small cottage.

Not that violence is unseen,

Neither blood nor revenge out of side,

All that being pride of growing honour of that village with tradition,

To bring them all standing together whether joy or sorrow, we visit that small cottage.

Not that celebration is absent,

Neither pride nor valour out of notice,

All that being spices of that village with strong tradition,

To be the pride of it, we live through that small cottage...