On her way to Gidni hamlet,
Going the tract
All alone,
Passing through the orchard plot,
I used to find her sitting
On a chunk of rock sometimes,
Ruminating over,
The used Santhal woman,
Tempted, lured and betrayed
In the name of love and money
By the bazaar.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem