[1][2] The poem describes a peasant’s love towards his land and was the “Dui Bigha Jomi” (Bengali: দুই বিঘা জমি, IPA: English: Two Bighas of Land) is a. Dui Bigha Jomi. To hear this poem read aloud, click here. Dui Bigha Jomi (Bengali Poem Written in English Font). – Rabindranath Thakur. Shudhu bighe-dui, chhilo mor bhui, ar shobi gechhe rine. Babu bolilen.

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Good thing you have done. I was trying to get this poem in Roman script for my niece and also the free translation. At 60 when I visit her at 87 I take out the Sansayita and I read out while she recites by heart. Good way to spend time with an 87 year old mother.

Can someone please let us know the background of the poem, I mean the story behind the poem?

Dui Bigha Jomi (My little piece of land) | drishti ghuri

But it would be easy for us if the bengali writing was not tiny. It should be large. Many thanks for posting this beautiful poetry. The translation is also great. Do you have the email of Mr. Fakrul Alam who did the translation? Thanks for this beautiful poem and I am happy to say that in my book I have not that part of dhik dhil ore dhik………And searching at this site on day I got that.

It is really an unparallel translation by Fakrul Alam Sir…. Reblogged this on Whatisinaname and commented: You are commenting using your WordPress. You are commenting using your Twitter poe. You are commenting using your Facebook account. Notify me of new di via email.

Shopto-purush jethay manush she bogha shonar bara, Doinner daye bechibo she ma-ye emni lokkhi chhara! E jogote hay shei beshi chay ache jar bhuri bhuri, Rajar hosto kore shomosto kangaler dhon churi. Mone bhabilam, more bhogoban pem na moho-gorte, Tai likhi dilo bishsho-nikhil du-bighar poriborte. Shonnashi beshe firi deshe deshe hoia shadhur shishsho — Koto herilam monohor dham, koto monorom drishsho.

Bhudhore shagore bijone nogore jokhon jekhane bhromi Tobu nishidine bhulite pari ne shei dui bigha jomi. Hate mathe bate eimoto kate bochhor ponero-sholo, Ekdin sheshe firibare deshe boroi bashona holo.

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Nomonomo nomo, shundori momo jononi bongobhumi, Gongar tir snigdho shomir jibon jurale tumi. Obarito math, gogon-lolat chume tobo pododhuli — Chhaya shunibir shantir nir chhoto chhoto gramguli. Pollob-ghono amro-kanon, rakhaler khela geho — Duu otol dighi kalojol nishith-shitol-sneho.

Buk-bhora modhu bonger bodhu jol loye jay ghore — Ma bolite pran kore anchan, joki ashe jol bhore. Dui din pore ditio prohore probeshinu nij grame — Kumorer bari dokkhine chhari, broth-tola kori bame, Rakhi hat-khola nondir gola, mondir kori pachhe trishatur sheshe pouchhenu eshe amar barir kachhe.

Dui Bigha Jomi

She ki mone hobe ekdin jobe chhile doridromata Achol bhoria rakhite dhoria folful shak pata! Aj kon rite kare bhulaite dhorechho bilash besh — Pach-ronga poe onchole gatha, pushpe khochito kesh! Ami tor lagi firechhi bibagi grihohara shukh-hin, Tui hetha boshi ore rakkhoshi, hashia katash din!

Dhonir adore gorob na dhore! Etoi hoyechho bhinno — Konokhane lesh nahi oboshesh she diner kono chinho! Kollanmoyi chhile tumi oyi, khudha-hara shudha-rashi, Joto hasho aj, joto koro shaj, chhile debi — hole dashi. Bidirno-hiya firia firia chari dike cheye dekhi — Prachirer kachhe ekhono je ache shei am-gachh eki.

Boshi tar tole noyoner jole shanto hoilo betha, Eke eke mone udilo shorone balok-kaler kotha. Shei mone pore, joishther jhore ratre nahiko ghum, Oti bhore uthi taratari chhuti am kurabar dhuum. Shei shumodhur stobdho dupur, pathshala polayon — Bhabilam hay, ar ki kothay fire pabo she jibon. Shohosha batash kheli gelo shash shakha dulaia pachhe, Duti paka fol lobhilo bhutol amar koler kachhe.

Bhabilam mone, bujhi etokhone amare chinilo mata, Sneher she dane bohu shommane barek thekanu matha. Henokal hay jomdut-pray kotha hote elo mali, Jhutibadha ure shoptom shure parite lagilo gali. My Little Plot of Land From: Falsely, it said I had defaulted on a loan and owed The zamindar the whole lot! God has decided not to confine me to this small plot of land; Perhaps I am fated to roam far and wide and end up in some distant strand.

But no matter whether I climbed high peaks or reached a remote river bend The thing I could never forget night or day was my little plot of land!

And so I traversed country fairs, fields, and roads for fifteen years or so Until homesickness made me feel to my country once more I must go. I thought as I went: Your exquisite riverbanks and gentle winds will surely revive me. Such thoughts of my motherland made me sad and tears welled up in me. Two days later—at noon— I entered my village— oh so eagerly! Shame, shame, oh shame on you, my shameless little plot of land! How you provided me with fruits, flowers and produce from your bed?


Who are you trying to seduce now in fancy and dazzling dresses? Why deck yourself in alluring colors and flower-studded tresses? It was for you I came back worn out by years of wandering But you, wanton, are only bent on being coy and enchanting! With a grieving heart I looked around and what then did I see? Still erect where it always stood was my favorite mango tree!

I sat down and wept till tears doused the pain that was in me One by one, images of childhood resurfaced in my memory. Suddenly a gusting wind shook the branches of the tree and two ripe mangoes fell on the spot where I happened to be. Surely, I thought, my mother has finally seen her long lost son, I picked up the mangoes she lovingly gave me on this occasion.

Suddenly, as if an angel of piem, an Oriya gardener was in the scene Hair in knot, this man swore and threatened in a way that blgha obscene. Dragging me to his landlord, he complained to him about what I said. I laughed at my fate and at all those years I spent in grief Indeed, he is the saint now and I am the thief!

It was my favourite poem and I got prize for recitation at school.

I am regularly recite it. Leave a Reply Cancel reply Enter your comment here Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Bighaa required Address never made public.

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