I WILL DECK thee with trophies, garlands of my defeat. It is never in my power to escape unconquered.
I surely know my pride will go to the wall, my life will burst its bonds in exceeding pain, and my empty heart will sob out in music like a hollow reed, and the stone will melt in tears.
I surely know the hundred petals of a lotus will not remain closed for ever and the secret recess of its honey will be bared.
From the blue sky an eye shall gaze upon me and summon me in
silence. Nothing will be left for me, nothing whatever and utter death shall I receive at thy feet.

              আছে আমার হৃদয় আছে ভরে
                    এখন তুমি যা-খুশি তাই করো।
              এমনি যদি বিরাজ অন্তরে
                    বাহির হতে সকলি মোর হরো।
                           সব পিপাসার যেথায় অবসান
                           সেথায় যদি পূর্ণ কর প্রাণ,
                           তাহার পরে মরুপথের মাঝে
                                  উঠে রৌদ্র উঠুক খরতর।
       এই যে খেলা খেলছ কত ছলে
              এই খেলা তো আমি ভালোবাসি।
       এক দিকেতে ভাসাও আঁখিজলে
              আরেক দিকে জাগিয়ে তোল হাসি।
                    যখন ভাবি সব খোয়ালেম বুঝি,
                    গভীর করে পাই তাহারে খুঁজি,
                    কোলের থেকে যখন ফেল দূরে
                           বুকের মাঝে আবার তুলে ধর।

THE CLOUDS thicken till the morning light seems like a bedraggled fringe to the rainy night.
        A little girl stands at her window, still as a rainbow at the gate of a broken-down storm.
        She is my neighbour, and has come upon the earth like some god's rebellious laughter. Her mother in anger calls her incorrigible; her father smiles and calls her mad.
        She is like a runaway waterfall leaping over boulders, like the topmost bamboo twig rustling in the restless wind.
She stands at her window looking out into the sky.
        Her sister, comes to say, 'Mother calls you.' She shakes her head.
        Her little brother with his toy boat comes and tries to pull her off to play; she snatches her hand from his. The boy persists and she gives him a slap on the back.
The first great voice was the voice of wind and water in the beginning of earth's creation.
        That ancient cry of nature-her dumb call to unborn life-has reached this child's heart and leads it out alone beyond the fence of our times: so there she stands, possessed by eternity!