sup says pari's ajji puts his neice to sleep singing
majhi sonyachi chakuli
tu baher nako jaus
tula porach martil
tujhya angatlach kadhtil
tujhya angat nahi bal
tu chimta kadhun pal
i want to write of gran stories
of poor little princesses banished and salt
and rhymes sung with baby on shin
of curly knotted hair, river veins and oil dribbling from crevices
of the surprise summer showers when mangoes and plums dried
and the sharp tang of pickled tetul
tar shojol chokhe kajol chhilo na
chhilo na ashadh megher badhon chhilo, badol chhilo na.
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