Village

When I came to this small village,

My mind is bound by Maya.

As far away as I go,

Still, the mind remains in the village of Bankura.

I don't know what magic binds,

The mind is lost in unconsciousness.

There are as many trees and green forests,

Let everything take over me.

River flowing along the road.

Green cropland.

standing in the middle of the field,

Paint this scene in watercolour.

When the night falls silent,

The village hears the owl's voice.

Uncle Chand looks through the gap in the bamboo.

I enjoy the beauty of constellations without fail.

Grass wet with morning dew,

And I walk beside the small river.

In the chirping of birds,

Enchantment abounds throughout.

Sitting on the green grass in the field in the afternoon,

Enjoy the atmosphere.

Twilight is when the sun sets.

I see the sun in the far sky.

Children, teenagers, and youths, play field games.

He said he would go home along the way.

From the nearby crop fields,

The smell of fragrance floats in the environment.

The village is free from the humdrum and bustles of town life.

The juice of dates trees, palm- trees, green mango with salt and chilli powder; the tamarind tree always allure me. 

We; called ourselves sophisticated townspeople, filled with vile and ego.

Whereas in the village they are totally dependent on cultivation. We have to take care of our " *sujala sufala* " village.