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Sonar Tori By Rabindranath Tagore - Bengali Poem Recitation - Bangla Kobita Abritti

Download Sonar Tori By Rabindranath Tagore - Bengali Poem Recitation - Bangla Kobita Abritti HD Mp4 3GP Video and MP3
Download Sonar Tori By Rabindranath Tagore - Bengali Poem Recitation - Bangla Kobita Abritti HD Mp4 3GP Video and MP3 Download Sonar Tori By Rabindranath Tagore - Bengali Poem Recitation - Bangla Kobita Abritti HD Mp4 3GP Video and MP3 Download Sonar Tori By Rabindranath Tagore - Bengali Poem Recitation - Bangla Kobita Abritti HD Mp4 3GP Video and MP3
File Name: Sonar Tori By Rabindranath Tagore - Bengali Poem Recitation - Bangla Kobita Abritti
Duration: 2 Minutes 22 Seconds
View:: 197890
Definition: HD
Published: Fri 4 Jul 2014 at 8:50am
Uploader: Rajshri Bengali

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Share on Facebook - http://goo.gl/mP1ZjI Tweet about this - http://goo.gl/hzQezv Sonar Tori - The first poem from the collection,"Sonar Tori". Sonar Tori is one of Tagore's greatest creation. It is a collection of 19 poems. It was published in the year 1894 and became Tagore's first popular success. Voice Over Artist - Mandira Tagore VFX - Shravan Shah Subscribe to this channel & stay tuned: http://www.youtube.com/user/rajshribengali?sub_confirmation=1 Do join our Facebook Page http://www.facebook.com/rajshribengali Follow us on Twitter https://twitter.com/#!/RajshriDotCom Find us on Google+ at https://plus.google.com/+rajshribengali Meaning: In this poem, the poet sits, sad and alone on the river bank, sheaves of cut paddy waiting beside him. A boat approaches, piloted by a mysterious figure, who agrees to load the paddy. The person on the bank it all and then asks to be taken on board too. But there is no room. On the bare river-bank I am alone. The golden boat has taken everything, all I had is gone. Sonar Tori (English Translation) The Golden Boat Clouds rumbling in the sky; teeming rain. I sit on the river bank, sad and alone. The sheaves lie gathered, harvest has ended, The river is swollen and fierce in its flow. As we cut the paddy it started to rain. One small paddy-field, no one but me - Flood-waters twisting and swirling everywhere. Trees on the far bank; smear shadows like ink On a village painted on deep morning grey. On this side a paddy-field, no one but me. Who is this, steering close to the shore Singing? I feel that she is someone I know. The sails are filled wide, she gazes ahead, Waves break helplessly against the boat each side. I watch and feel I have seen her face before. Oh to what foreign land do you sail? Come to the bank and moor your boat for a while. Go where you want to, give where you care to, But come to the bank a moment, show your smile - Take away my golden paddy when you sail. Take it, take as much as you can load. Is there more? No, none, I have put it aboard. My intense labour here by the river - I have parted with it all, layer upon layer; Now take me as well, be kind, take me aboard. No room, no room, the boat is too small. Loaded with my gold paddy, the boat is full. Across the rain-sky clouds heave to and fro, On the bare river-bank, I remain alone - What had has gone: the golden boat took all.

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