The farmhouse is lively in the serene December,
The music of the victory is humming everywhere.
The farmer feels no fatigue in arranging the festival,
Disappeared all troubles and blood freezing fear.
It was a very hard time just the other day,
The demons plundered the paddy of the farm.
Hundreds of the farmers’ sons lost their lives,
Housewives embraced death of honour to resist harm.
The farmhouse turned elated with joy once again,
Million names,blood and sweat are now events of the past.
Hills of paddy swelled up in the farmyard,
Jubilant butterflies and swans move around fast.
The farmer’s innocent son sits beside the grave of his mother,
Weeps fearlessly placing fresh flowers in her honour.