এ মণিহার আমায় নাহি সাজে। পরতে গেলে লাগে,এরে ছিঁড়তে গেলে বাজে। কণ্ঠ যে রোধ করে, সুর তো নাহি সরে, ওই দিকে যে মন পড়ে রয় মন লাগে না কাজে। তাই তো বসে আছি, এ হার তোমায় পরাই যদি তবেই আমি বাঁচি। ফুলমালার ডোরে বরিয়া লও মোরে তোমার কাছে দেখাই নে মুখ মণিমালার লাজে।
BRING TO THIS country once again the blessed name which made the land of thy birth sacred to all distant lands! Let thy great awakening under the bodhi tree be fulfilled, sweeping away the veil of unreason and let, at the end of an oblivious night, freshly blossom out in India thy remembrance! Bring life to the mind that is inert, thou Illimitable Light and Life! Let the air become vital with thy inspiration! Let open the doors that are barred, and the resounding conch shell proclaim thy arrival at Bharat's gate. Let, through innumerable voices, the gospel of an immeasurable love announce thy call.
IT IS THE pang of separation that spreads throughout the world and gives birth to shapes innumerable in the infinite sky. It is this sorrow of separation that gazes in silence all night from star to star and becomes lyric among rustling leaves in rainy darkness of July. It is this overspreading pain that deepens into loves and desires, into sufferings and joys in human homes; and this it is that ever melts and flows in songs through my poet's heart.
