When our caravan first disembarked on your waterfront? O the flowing waters of the Ganges, do you remember that day Whose vitality makes our garden the envy of Paradise. In its lap frolic those thousands of rivers, That tallest mountain, that shade-sharer of the sky, Know us to be only there where our heart is. If we are in an alien place, the heart remains in the homeland, We are its nightingales, and it (is) our garden abode
