The boat of the sailor Madhu is moored at the pier of Rajgunj.
It's stupidly laden with jute*, and has been lying there idle for ever so long.

If he would only lend me his boat, I should man her with a hundred oars, and hoist sails, five or six or even seven.
I would never steer her to stupid markets.
I would sail the seven seas and the thirteen rivers of fairyland.

But, mother, don't weep for me in a corner.
I am not going into the forest like Ramachandra to come back alone after fourteen years.
I am the hero of this story, and I will fill my boat with whatever I like.

I will take my friend Ashu with me. We will sail merrily
Across the endless seas and the thirteen rivers of fairyland.
We will weigh anchor in the early morning light.
When at noontide you are bathing at the pond, we will be in
The land of a foreign king.

We will pass the ford of Tirpurni, and leave behind us the desert of Tepantar.
When we come back it will be getting dark, and I will tell you, dear mother
Of all that we have seen.

I will cross the seven seas and the thirteen rivers of fairyland.