Along came a needless meaning of simplicity.. a well-thought spindle of ideas...which came undone...and I wrote in syllables, in which I sang once, remembering the odd, accidental fragments of rain and streams.... and Mahananda beckoned me this time, along with the emptiness of it's drenched bossom...where I lay, where I played, where I swam...As the July sun shivered, it's fervor bequeathed... I grasped the the jazz of the gleaming rays...hiding it in my eyes..
Hajar bolaka jeno pakha nare..
Duronto jhornar nrityo bahare..
Sagorer dheu aachhriye more..
Pathore Pathore..
Keu bole bhalobashe..
Aalingone..chumbone..
Podoseba shikto shinchone..
Ami boli..
Pathorer'o aachhe mon..
Aaghate na jani kokhon..
Premer porosh bojhe..
Shobujer aalogochhe..
Tobu rikto ekhon..
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4 comments:
the intro feels much more awesome, for some reason :|
Yep! I agree...ermm... for the same reason! ;)
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