FEAR NOT, FOR thou shalt conquer,
thy doors will open, thy bonds break.
Often thou losest thyself in sleep,
and yet must find back thy world
again and again.
The call comes to thee from the earth and sky
the call from among men,
the call to sing of gladness and pain,
of shame and fear.
The leaves and the flowers,
the waters that fall and flow,
ask for thy notes to mingle with their own,
the darkness and light
to tremble in the rhythm of thy song.

   কঠিন শিলা প্রতাপ তাঁর বহে,
         তাহার কাছে পথিক সাবধান।
   প্রীতি তাঁহার কুসুমে ফুটে রহে,
         অনাদরেও করে সে হাসি দান।

WHY ARE THOSE tears in your eyes, my child?
How horrid of them to be always scolding you for nothing?
You have stained your fingers and face with ink while writing-is that why they call you dirty?
O, fie! Would they dare to call the full moon dirty because it has smudged its face with ink?
For every little trifle they blame you, my child. They are ready to find fault for nothing.
You tore your clothes while playing-is that why they call you untidy?
O, fie! What would they call an autumn morning that smiles through its ragged clouds?
Take no heed of what they say to you, my child.
They make a long list of your misdeeds.
Everybody knows how you love sweet things-is that why they call you greedy?
O, fie! What then would they call us who love you?