Everyone is welcome
to my little golden village.

Where sing cuckoos and peacocks
where you can see magpie-robin
The water of the small river flows
towards its own address towards the sea.

Where shepherd play his flute
The mind becomes sad a little
The water drains down during ebb
Calling by gesture.

Where the water-lily filled the ponds
Children swim in the water
All the groups of farmers
go to the boundaries of the field.

Where silk-cotton, Bakul, Palash flowers flourish
Seeing that mind becomes cheerful
Fishermen go to the river to catch fishes
On the edge of the small river.

Everyone is welcome
to my little golden village.