Ye banks and braes o' bonnie Doon,
How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair?
How can ye chant ye little birds,
And I sae weary, fu' o' care? 
Ye'll break my heart, ye warbling birds,
That wanton through the flow'ry thorn,
Ye 'mind me o' departed joys,
Departed never to return. 

Oft hae I rov'd by bonnie Doon,
To see the rose and woodbine twine;
And ilka bird sang o' its love,
And fondly sae did I o' mine. 

Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose,
Fu' sweet upon its thorny tree;
And my fause lover stole my rose,
But ah! he left the thorn wi' me.



ফুলে ফুলে ঢ'লে ঢ'লে

Music doesn't lie. If there is something to be changed in this world, then it can only happen through music.
-Jimi Hendrix

Beautiful music is the art of the prophets that can calm the agitations of the soul; it is one of the most magnificent and delightful presents God has given us.
-Martin Luther




ফুলে ফুলে ঢ'লে ঢ'লে

Mohiuddin Imran