I shall gladly suffer the pride of culture to die out in my house, br if only in some happy future I am born a herd-boy in the Brinda br forest. br The herd-boy who grazes his cattle sitting under the banyan br tree, and idly weaves gunja flowers into garlands, who loves to br splash and plunge in the Jamuna's cool deep stream. br He calls his companions to wake up when morning dawns, and all br the houses in the lane hum with the sound of the churn, clouds of br dust are raised by the cattle, the maidens come out in the br courtyard to milk the king. br As the shadows deepen under the tomal trees, and the dusk br gathers on the river-banks; when the milkmaids, while crossing the br turbulent water, tremble with fear; and loud peacocks, with tails br outspread, dance in the forest, he watchers the summer clouds. br When the April night is sweet as a fresh-blown flower, he br disappears in the forest with a peacock's plume in his hair; the br swing ropes are twined with flowers on the branches; the south wind br throbs with music, and the merry shepherd boys crowd on the banks br of the blue river. br No, I will never be the leader, brothers, of this new age of br new Bengal; I shall not trouble to light the lamp of culture for br the benighted.