In Pranimandal, where the wetland gleams,
The Arial Bil reflects the golden skies.
Its tranquil waves, like softly whispered dreams,
Sing songs of peace where time in stillness lies.
In Bikrampur, where culture once did bloom,
The hamlet breathed with knowledge, simple grace.
Where Kalachand, in wisdom's quiet room,
Brought forth the light to guide a brighter race.
The lake's soft lap, a lullaby to hear,
Still echoes with the voices of the past.
Though I have never stepped so far, so near,
Its distant call reminds me, memories vast.
May this place, where my ancestors once did roam,
Revive Its glory from time's eternal home.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem