THE EARLY autumn day is cloudless. The river is full to the brim, washing the naked roots of the tottering tree by the ford. The long narrow path, like the thirsty tongue of the village, dips down into the stream. My heart is full, as I look around me and see the silent sky and the flowing water, and feel that happiness is spread abroad, as simply as a smile on a child's face.
তারা দিনের বেলা এসেছিল আমার ঘরে, বলেছিল, একটি পাশে রইব প'ড়ে। বলেছিল, দেবতা সেবায় আমরা হব তোমার সহায়-- যা কিছু পাই প্রসাদ লব পূজার পরে। এমনি করে দরিদ্র ক্ষীণ মলিন বেশে সংকোচেতে একটি কোণে রইল এসে। রাতে দেখি প্রবল হয়ে পশে আমার দেবালয়ে, মলিন হাতে পূজার বলি হরণ করে।
WHEN WE two first met my heart rang out in music, 'She who is eternally afar is beside you for ever.' That music is silent, because I have grown to believe that my love is only near, and have forgotten that she is also far, far away. Music fills the infinite between two souls. This has been muffled by the mist of our daily habits. On shy summer nights, when the breeze brings a vast murmur out of the silence, I sit up in my bed and mourn the great loss of her who is beside me. I ask myself, 'When shall I have another chance to whisper to her words with the rhythm of eternity in them?' Wake up, my song, from thy languor, rend this screen of the familiar, and fly to my beloved there, in the endless surprise of our first meeting!
