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Banalata Sen



Your voice feels like the melody of a cuckoo bird, so pure and bright,Your smile like a lotus floating on Mithapukur’s water in gentle light.

Your tears seem like the rain that falls in the month of Shraban’s rain,Your graceful walk feels like a creation of Rabindranath’s poetic strain.

Are you the Mona Lisa painted by an artist’s skilled hand and pen?Or are you the timeless beauty known as Banalata Sen?

Yet in my heart, one thing I feel again and again—You seem even sweeter than sweetness itself, beyond all ken.









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