(1232) Amar bhuvan kalo haye ache
Black is become my world;
Still the Lord of Light did not show up.
The floral seedling cannot blossom,
As no honey was infused in the bud.
The flower garden, the grass carpet,
From shortage of water they did not persist.
With scorching sun and biting wind,
The pouring rain, it did not happen.
I can't sing the song that's been rehearsed,
Nor can I move along the path that's fixed.
Without Your grace nothing exists,
So I don't see how mercy didn't trickle.
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