The dance of the Santhal girls,
It still dances before the eyes,
The troupe coming and dancing
Into the forests deep,
Hamlets secluded and scattered over
Under the shadows of the hills.
Flowers stuck into the braids
Or the feathers,
They in the lungi-patterned clothes
And in silver ornaments,
clapping, singing and dancing tunefully.
The beat of the mridang vibrating
Into the forests deep,
Inebriated and dancing,
Singing and dancing,
Enjoying life and dancing
In groups collectively.
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