Our village
Bande Ali Miah
Our small villages are small houses,
I do not think there are anybody who is not together.
All the sons of the village are Mora Bhai Bhai,
Play together and go to the lessons.
Like our small village mom,
With light, life has been saved by air.
Field filled paddy is filled with water,
The twinkle of the moon shines
Mango trees, jam trees, bamboo trees,
They are mixed together they become relatives.
In the morning, Sonar Rabi turned to Pub,
Birds call, air boy, flowers blossom.