LET ME LIE down upon the ground beneath your footstool in perfect
gladness.
Let my garment be red with the common dust you touch with your feet.
Set me not higher than others; keep me not apart from all else.
Draw me down into a sweet lowliness.
Let my garment be red with the common dust you touch with your feet.
Let me remain the last of all your pilgrims; I shall try to reach
the lowest site which is the broadest.
They come from all sides to ask for gifts from your hands.
Let me wait till they all have had their shares; I shall be
content with the last remnant.
Let my garment be red with the common dust you touch with your feet.

YOU HAD YOUR rudder broken many a time, my boat, and your sails torn to tatters. Often had you drifted towards the sea, dragging anchor and heeded not. But now there has spread a crack in your hull and your hold is heavy. Now is the time for you to end your voyage, to be rocked into sleep by the lapping of the water by the beach.
Alas, I know all warning is vain. The veiled face of dark doom lures you. The madness of the storm and the waves is upon you. The music of the tide is rising high. You are shaken by the fever of that dance.
Then break your chain, my boat, and be free, and fearlessly rush to your wreck.

        সভাতলে ভুঁয়ে
            কাৎ হয়ে শুয়ে
        নাক ডাকাইছে সুল্‌তান,
            পাকা দাড়ি নেড়ে
            গলা দিয়ে ছেড়ে
        মন্ত্রী গাহিছে মূলতান।
এত উৎসাহ দেখি গায়কের
জেদ হল মনে সেনানায়কের--
কোমরেতে এক ওড়না জড়িয়ে
   নেচে করে সভা গুলতান।
        ফেলে সব কাজ
          বরকন্দাজ
   বাঁশিতে লাগায় ভুল তান।