THE SHORE whispers to the sea:
'Write to me what thy waves struggle to say.'
The sea writes in foam again and again
and wipes off the lines in a boisterous despair.

সব চেয়ে ভক্তি যার
        অস্ত্রদেবতারে
অস্ত্র যত জয়ী হয়
        আপনি সে হারে।

I HAVE SCALED the peak and found no shelter in fame's bleak and barren height. Lead me, my Guide, before the light fades, into the valley of quiet where life's harvest mellows into golden wisdom.