I haven't been to my green village for a long time
Sonabil, Padmadighi, Uttarkang
That dusty path, the depressing path,
Sugarcane threshing scene, tired buffalo
How many days have not been seen; How many days have passed
Hear the call of the dove at noon, hutom owl
Words ঃ maybe still calling with handshakes
The river in the village that has almost dried up, ever
This is the favorite village to see the greenery in the city
I remember an old day
Listening to the song, watching Doel-Shalik
I became very distracted;
Let's go back to my green village, Hatkhola
Still never in tin rice
Hearing the sound of rain in North Bengal
I remember that sad village.
It's like remembering what it is
Yet this lush forest, depressing rocks
The river is as dry as a canal, yet
To me, fairy tales are more than fairy tales.
