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Poem

There the hill sleeps leaning against the sky.
Never homebound, I am the spring on that hill,
and keep flowing at my will
The leopard is my comrade,
the cobra my playmate;
I cuddle happily the snake’s basket
and pass the night on.
Catching the flight of the whirling wind
I hop and dance along.

[Original: Akashe helan diye; Translation: Mohammad Nurul Huda]

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