এই তো ভালো লেগেছিল
Ei to bhalo legechhilo
This is what I love
The dance of light on leaves so green
This is what delights my heart
The gallop of a maddened breeze
Through foliage of the Sal trees
Along roads of ruby red earth
Hasten those headed for the mart
A little girl squats on the dust
Playing with her knick-knacks alone
As I feast my eyes on this sight
Wells up a melody within
This little bamboo flute of mine
I seek in it songs of the fields
Tethered to the soil of this earth
My heart has felt secure
Those young lads who bask in the sun
Soaking in the light of blue skies
I fill my eyes with their eager gaze
I tune my lute to their youthful voice
If ever I wish to go afar
Surrounding me they hold me back
Beckon the skies of the village
Waving drumstick flowers in the breeze
I have no thirst for the distant
Bounteous is nectar of the near
Of all these little things
I have not yet had my fill
Of these days so commonplace
Unfinished yet is the ballad
Enamoured I have been
Mesmerised I have been
Of this I sing about
Time I have not for work
Enraptured is my heart
Enraptured are my eyes
Futile it is to call me now
Many are hopes they have
Much they want to amass
I only wish to sing about
I don’t want to grow anymore
Ei to bhalo legechhilo
This is what I love
The dance of light on leaves so green
This is what delights my heart
The gallop of a maddened breeze
Through foliage of the Sal trees
Along roads of ruby red earth
Hasten those headed for the mart
A little girl squats on the dust
Playing with her knick-knacks alone
As I feast my eyes on this sight
Wells up a melody within
This little bamboo flute of mine
I seek in it songs of the fields
Tethered to the soil of this earth
My heart has felt secure
Those young lads who bask in the sun
Soaking in the light of blue skies
I fill my eyes with their eager gaze
I tune my lute to their youthful voice
If ever I wish to go afar
Surrounding me they hold me back
Beckon the skies of the village
Waving drumstick flowers in the breeze
I have no thirst for the distant
Bounteous is nectar of the near
Of all these little things
I have not yet had my fill
Of these days so commonplace
Unfinished yet is the ballad
Enamoured I have been
Mesmerised I have been
Of this I sing about
Time I have not for work
Enraptured is my heart
Enraptured are my eyes
Futile it is to call me now
Many are hopes they have
Much they want to amass
I only wish to sing about
I don’t want to grow anymore
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