Kobita

Our small river goes round and round

In the month of Baishakh, his knees are full of water.

Cows cross, cars cross,

The two edges are high, the slope is wide.

Glittering sand, where there is no mud,

On one side, the kashabana is swollen and white.

The swarm of squirrels chirping,

The fox roared from the night before.

And then there's Amaban Talban,

In the shade of the village Bamun Para Tari.

When the boy and girl are not on the shore

They pour water on the towel.

If you never take it in the morning or in the afternoon

They cover the area and catch small fish.

Serve with sand