A voice has fallen silent,
A voice that echoed for ages
In the gullies and valleys of India!
As melodious as the cuckoo,
As lively as a humming bird,
Her voice was the voice of spring.
And yet, at times the same voice
Could raise such deep pathos
As to bring tears to the eyes!
Rest in peace, nightingale;
There will never be another like you.
Who can touch a billion hearts!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem