Bengali, My Mother Tongue (Sonnet) Poem by Dipankar Sadhukhan

O tongue of mine, in thee my soul takes flight,
Thy gentle words like rivers softly glide.
Through fields of green, through golden morning light,
Thy voice the pulse where all our hearts confide.

Thou art the mother's cradle, warm and sweet,
The laughter of the child, the village song.
Through thee our dreams arise, our hopes complete,
And in thy breast our steadfast hearts belong.

The sages, poets, heroes, all proclaim
Thy grace that binds the past with present day.
In thee we find our honor, joy, and name,
A light to guide us when our skies turn gray.

O Bengali, eternal, proud, and free,
Thy spirit lives in every heart and tree.

By Dipankar Sadhukhan
Kolkata, India
Copyrights@January25,2026.