Morning in my village

It's morning in my village.

In the smell of the Gangshiuli of the Ajaghar Bagena, in the bell tower of the uncle's Gotheswar temple

In the morning of my grandfather, in calling my mother for water

In the smell of my grandfather's dung dripping into the water

In the smell of my brother's sleeping bag, in the smell of the flowers ripening in the acacia tree

In the smell of the flowers

Twenty or thirty kilograms of gold, coming from the cow's head,

In my village, it is morning (lazy), and my father pours a bucket of water on me.

Morning in my village