শিমূল রাঙা রঙে    চোখেরে দিল ভ'রে।
নাকটা হেসে বলে,  'হায় রে যাই ম'রে।'
নাকের মতে, গুণ      কেবলি আছে ঘ্রাণে,
রূপ যে রঙ খোঁজে      নাকটা তা কি জানে।

MY FETTERS, you made music in my heart. I played with you all day long and made you my ornament. We were the best of friends, my fetters. There were times when I was afraid of you, but my fear made me love you the more. You were companions of my long dark night, and I make my bow to you, before I bid you good-bye, my fetters.

I.117. sain se lagan kathin hai, bhai
HOW HARD IT is to meet my Lord!
The rain-bird wails in thirst for the rain: almost she dies of her longing, yet she would have none other water than the rain.
Drawn by the love of music, the deer moves forward: she dies as she listens to the music, yet she shrinks not in fear.
The widowed wife sits by the body of her dead husband: she is not afraid of the fire.
Put away all fear for this poor body.