At the edge of the evergreens

All around in the untouchable cold shade, a hundred wounds join this life of rebellion. Surrounded by impatient illusions, the mind rises and says, I am at the edge of the evergreens. Under the dense shade of green banani, in the flowing brackish water of this mother river, in the heart-rending sound of birds, this mind says in anxious tone; Alas, I am at the edge of the evergreens. In that wilderness of green, Ranga Rabi is eager, as if he has painted this picture of Bengal, as if he has forgotten the differences, as if he is saying, I am at the edge of the eternal green. Under the sky, in the green market, in the quiet gorge of the river, on the bank of the crooked river, as if this mind wants to go, to the edge of the eternal green. This land is decorated with green, have you held it in illusion? Tell me, who has decorated you like this? Green is on the edge of evergreen.

All around in the untouchable cold shade, a hundred wounds join this life of rebellion. Surrounded by impatient illusions, the mind rises and says, I am at the edge of the evergreens. Under the dense shade of green banani, in the flowing brackish water of this mother river, in the heart-rending sound of birds, this mind says in anxious tone; Alas, I am at the edge of the evergreens. In that wilderness of green, Ranga Rabi is eager, as if he has painted this picture of Bengal, as if he has forgotten the differences, as if he is saying, I am at the edge of the eternal green. Under the sky, in the green market, in the quiet gorge of the river, on the bank of the crooked river, as if this mind wants to go, to the edge of the eternal green. This land is decorated with green, have you held it in illusion? Tell me, who has decorated you like this? Green is on the edge of evergreen.