FROM TRIUMPH to triumph they drove their chariot over the earth's
torn breast.
Round them Time's footsteps were muffled and slow, and birds'
songs lay gathered in the bosom of Night.
Drunken of red fire their torch spread its glare like an arrogant
lotus floating upon the blue with stars above as bees enchanted.
They boasted that the undying lights of the sky fed the flame they carried till it conquered the night and won homage from the sullen silence of the dark.
The bell sounds.
They start up to find they had slept dreaming of wealth and
pollution of power and the pillage of God's own temple.
The sun of the new day shines upon the night's surrender of love.
The torch lies shrouded in its ashes, and the sky rings with the
rejoicing voice,
'Victory to the earth! Victory to the heaven!
Victory to the all-conquering Light!'

সত্যেরে যে জানে, তারে
      সগর্বে ভাণ্ডারে রাখে ভরি।
সত্যেরে যে ভালোবাসে
      বিনম্র অন্তরে রাখে ধরি।

এক যদি আর হয় কী ঘটিবে তবে?
এখন যা হয়ে গেছে, তখনো তা হবে।
তখন সকল দুঃখ ঘোচে যদি ভাই,
এখন যা সুখ আছে দুঃখ হবে তাই।