(Translated from the Bengali of Satyendranath Datta) I OPENED MY bud when April breathed her last and the summer scorched with kisses the unwilling earth. I came half afraid and half curious, like a mischievous imp peeping at a hermit's cell. I heard the frightened whispers of the despoiled woodland, and the Kokil gave voice, to the languor of the summer; through the fluttering leaf curtain of my birth-chamber I saw the world grim, grey, and haggard. Yet boldly I came out strong with the faith of youth, quaffed the fiery wine from the glowing bowl of the sky, and proudly saluted the morning, I, the champa flower, who carry the perfume of the sun in my heart.
A SMILE OF mirth spread over the sky when you dressed my heart in rags and sent her forth into the road to beg. She went from door to door, and many a time when her bowl was nearly full she was robbed. At the end of the weary day she came to your palace gate holding up her pitiful bowl, and you came and took her hand and seated her beside you on your throne.
ছায়ানট যদি বারণ কর, তবে গাহিব না। যদি শরম লাগে, মুখে চাহিব না। যদি বিরলে মালা গাঁথা সহসা পায় বাধা, তোমার ফুলবনে যাইব না। যদি বারণ কর, তবে গাহিব না। যদি থমকি থেমে যাও পথমাঝে আমি চমকি চলে যাব আন কাজে। যদি তোমার নদীকূলে ভুলিয়া ঢেউ তুলে, আমার তরীখানি বাহিব না। যদি বারণ কর, তবে গাহিব না।
