PARDON ME, if in my pride,
O maiden of a century, yet to be born,
I picture you reading my poems,
While the moon fills the gaps in my verse with its shower of silence.
I seem to feel your heart throb and hear you murmur,
'If I were alive today and had we met he would love me.'
I know you say to yourself,
'Only for this night let me light my lamp for him at my balcony,
though I know he may never come.'

SAILING THROUGH the night I came to life's feast, and the morning's golden goblet was filled with light for me.
I sang in joy,
I knew not who was the giver,
And I forgot to ask his name.
In the midday the dust grew hot under my feet and the sun overhead.
Overcome by thirst I reached the well.
Water was poured to me.
I drank it.
And while I loved the ruby cup that was sweet as a kiss,
I did not see him who held it and forgot to ask his name.
In the weary evening I seek my way home.
My guide- comes with a lamp and beckons me.
I ask his name,
But I only see his light through the silence and feel his smile filling the darkness.

ফুল তো আমার ফুরিয়ে গেছে,
            শেষ হল মোর গান--
এবার প্রভু, লও গো শেষের দান।
      অশ্রুজলের পদ্মখানি
      চরণতলে দিলাম আনি--
      ওই হাতে মোর হাত দুটি লও,
            লও গো আমার প্রাণ।
এবার প্রভু, লও গো শেষের দান।
ঘুচিয়ে লও গো সকল লজ্জা,
            চুকিয়ে লও গো ভয়।
বিরোধ আমার যত আছে
            সব করে লও জয়।
      লও গো আমার নিশীথরাতি,
      লও গো আমার ঘরের বাতি,
      লও গো আমার সকল শক্তি--
            সকল অভিমান।
এবার প্রভু, লও গো শেষের দান।