Читать книгу Poetry - Rabindranath Tagore - Страница 4

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My Bengal of Gold (Precious),

I love you.

Forever your skies, your air set my heart in tune

As if it were a flute.

In spring, O mother mine, the fragrance from your mango groves

Makes me wild with joy

Ah, what a thrill!

In autumn, O mother mine,

In the full blossomed paddy fields

I have seen spread all over sweet smiles.

In spring, O mother mine, the fragrance from your mango groves

Makes me wild with joy

Ah, what a thrill!

In autumn, O mother mine,

In the full blossomed paddy fields

I have seen spread all over sweet smiles.

O mother mine, words from your lips

Are like nectar to my ears.

Ah, what a thrill!

If sadness, O mother mine, casts a gloom on your face,

eyes are filled with tears!