We both were once in a village, far from the crowd

We both were once in a village, far from the crowd (Home/verses/khonika/ek ganye) We both were once in a village, far from the crowd Plethora, the joy is always ours! Magpie Robin chirps there high on their tree branch, modulation and swings. Overturn, Lingering longer with her song, I too, learned to believe in the churn. Her domesticity with her two cents, with her own there, pen name Grazing there near our age old oak tree and underneath the shade. Whence the fence is a threshold mayhem with her bewilderness We saved her, once more, our merciful shades! The village of ours had a name, Srimantapur The river Padma, meandered along, not too far, there. Infamous me, is known there with most of the villagers’ serenity. And the specialty of ours is in gossiping hands, myriad , primavera, pristine be! Both had a surrealism, underneath, in glum and glee, a tear and a smile. Midair, mid liner, spared a way, orchard a ! Bundles of buzzing bee wanders around, the greenery And we then believed in the unicorn. Lo and behold! A stingray and a sting of salt, cycled tributary, splashed me ! Nirvana had their thistle thal, on a fading twilight may Floating around our village periphery Their reverie, had a glow around the festive sky They had a hue underneath the dispersing sigh, twilight high, a fading lullaby! The village fair had a booth , on the eve, noticed through, by and by! The village of ours had a name, Srimantapur The river Padma, meandered along not too far, there. Infamous me, is known there with most of the villagers’ serenity. And the specialty of ours is in gossiping hands, myriad , primavera, pristine be! The village boulevard , and the depth of the fragrance of the dense mango trees The forest had the first usher where the utter learned them one by one, in the length to be! The brittle of their coy Had our beans and soy! The canopy of their indecisive sky Had my corner’s view , a gently blowing’ breeze, passing by Incessant rain drops with the flash flood reynold numbered high Had my cherry blossom in an eternal try, whence we were a simple outcry! The village of ours had a name, Srimantapur The river Padma, meandered along not too far, there. Infamous me, is known there with most of the villagers’ serenity. And the specialty of ours is in gossiping hands, myriad , primavera, pristine be!