Here is poem I received from someone I love; thought why not share it, at least with my Bengali readers.............................hope they will enjoy it. Through the jongole I am went, On shooting Tiger I am bent, Boshtaard Tiger has eaten wife, No doubt I will avenge poor darling's life, Too much quiet, snakes and leeches, But I not fear these sons of beeches, Hearing loud noise I am jumping with start, But noise is coming from damn fool heart, Taking care not to be fright, I am clutching rifle with eye to sight, Should Tiger come I will shoot and fall him down, Then like hero return to native town, Then through trees I am espying one cave, I am telling self - 'Bannerjee be brave.' I am now proceeding with too much care, From far I smell this Tiger's lair, My leg shaking, sweat coming, I start pray, I think I will shoot Tiger some other day, Turning round I am going to flee, But Tiger giving bloody roar spotting Bengalee, He bounding from cave like footbal...
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