Where the hills of Sreemangal go rolling away,
And the mist of the morning comes softly to play.
Stands the Grand Sultan, majestic and tall,
The king of the valley, the pride of them all.
A fortress of comfort in a landscape of green,
The most elegant palace the tea-land has seen.
With its terracotta walls and its towering grace,
It offers the soul such a peaceful embrace.
The infinity pool, like a mirror of light,
Reflecting the stars in the middle of night.
While the scent of the tea leaves is carried by wind,
Leaving the noise of the city behind.
From the lush golf course to the fountain's soft spray,
The luxury lingers through the heat of the day.
Inside the grand halls where the chandeliers glow,
The rhythm of life starts to steady and slow.
The wooden-carved ceilings and the marble-tiled floor,
With a view of the forest from every door.
A sanctuary carved from the earth and the sky,
Where the eagles of Sylhet go galloping by.
It's the touch of a Nawab, a modern-day dream,
Bathed in the richness of tea-scented steam.
The Grand Sultan waits with its doors open wide,
With the beauty of nature and comfort inside.