West Bengal is bewitching And Kolkata is its Queen
The city of Joy breathes deeply and quietly,
Following secret and silent rhythms.
Listen! Smell! Her song exhales her history.
Her words utter an invitation for the pilgrim
To melt down in her arms and never return.
The city of Joy breathes deeply and quietly,
Following secret and silent rhythms.
Listen! Smell! Her song exhales her history.
Her words utter an invitation for the pilgrim
To melt down in her arms and never return.
West Bengal is exalted
And Kolkata is its true spirit.
Peasants, merchants and thinkers, how many of your dreams,
How many of your voices have swollen the Howgly?
Stop! See! Her flow roars endlessly.
Her cadence is a reminder for the pilgrim
To stand up at her side and never resign.
West Bengal is savoury 
And Kolkata is its delicacy
Her flavours are never sharp, never bitter, never sour.
They come from the earth, from the rivers and from the sea.
Taste! Enjoy! Close your eyes…
Her savours are a joy for the pilgrims.
They are now gathered and forgot the fatigue of their long journey.
(drawings from Rabindranath Tagore)
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