I work hard from sun to moon br In spite of that my fate finds nothing br I am like a local train br Nobody looks behind after arriving at their stoppages br br My sisters seem as long platforms br If we can not make them reach at the scheduled stations in time br Society will blame I feel no fear no faith br br My father also an old-train of Bangaon line br He carries he staggers and breathes fast br There is no time to pause br He passes the stations one after another br And blows horn frequently br The western wind converts the horn br Into stinging pain that pierces me br I can not shout I can not cry br br Overcoming stormy hazards many ups and downs br My beloved friend the dark night comes to me with starry sky br All the stars are tearful yet I can not lament br br Sun arises br Apu and Durga come to see the young-train br In the mean time the old-train has gone far away...