শ্রীমতী কল্পনা দেবীর প্রতি
সুন্দর ভক্তির ফুল অলক্ষ্যে নিভৃত তব মনে
যদি ফুটে থাকে মোর কাব্যের দক্ষিণ সমীরণে,
হে শোভনে, আজি এই নির্মল কোমল গন্ধ তার
দিয়েছ দক্ষিণা মোরে, কবির গভীর পুরস্কার।
লহো আশীর্বাদ বৎসে, আপন গোপন অন্তঃপুরে
ছন্দের নন্দনবন সৃষ্টি করো সুধাস্নিগ্ধ সুরে, --
বঙ্গের নন্দিনী তুমি, প্রিয়জনে করো আনন্দিত,
প্রেমের অমৃত তব ঢেলে দিক গানের অমৃত।

DAWN PLAYS her lute before the gate of darkness,
'and is content to vanish when the sun comes out.'

SUPPOSING I became a champa flower, just for fun, and grew on a branch high up that tree, and shook in the wind with laughter and danced upon the newly budded leaves, would you know me, mother?
You would call, 'Baby, where are you?' and I should laugh to myself and keep quite quiet.
I should slyly open my petals and watch you at your work.
When after your bath, with wet hair spread on your shoulders, you walked through the shadow of the champa tree to the little court where you say your prayers, you would notice the scent of the flower, but not know that it came from me.
When after the midday meal you sat at the window reading Ramayana, and the tree's shadow fell over your hair and your lap, I should fling my wee little shadow on to the page of your book, just where you were reading.
But would you guess that it was the tiny shadow of your little child?
When in the evening you went to the cowshed with the lighted lamp in your hand, I should suddenly drop on to the earth again and be your own baby once more, and beg you to tell me a story.
'Where have you been, you naughty child? '
'I won't tell you, mother. ' That's what you and I would say then.