My Bengal of gold, I love you
Forever your skies,
Your air set my heart in tune as if it were a flute.
In spring,
Oh mother mine,
the fragrance from your mango-groves makes me wild with joy
Ah, what a thrill!
What a quilt have you spread at the feet of banyan trees and along the banks of rivers!
Oh mother mine,
Word from your lips are like a nectar to my ears!
Ah what a thrill!
If sadness,
Oh mother mine,
casts a gloom on your face
My eyes are filled with tears!