CEASELESS is THE welter of rain that wearies the sky. Alas for the forsaken! Alas for the homeless wanderer! The shrieks of the wind die away in sobs and sighs. What flying phantom does it pursue across the pathless wild? The night is hopeless like the eyes of the blind. Alas for the forsaken! Alas for the homeless wanderer! The waves are frantic in the river lost in the shoreless dark. The thunder growls, the lightning flashes its teeth. The lights of the stars are dead. Alas for the forsaken! Alas for the homeless wanderer!
ও নিঠুর, আরো কি বাণ তোমার তূণে আছে? তুমি মর্মে আমায় মারবে হিয়ার কাছে? আমি পালিয়ে থাকি, মুদি আঁখি, আঁচল দিয়ে মুখ যে ঢাকি, কোথাও কিছু আঘাত লাগে পাছে। মারকে তোমার ভয় করেছি বলে তাই তো এমন হৃদয় ওঠে জ্বলে। যেদিন সে ভয় ঘুচে যাবে সেদিন তোমার বাণ ফুরাবে, মরণকে প্রাণ বরণ করে বাঁচে।
LET ME LIE down upon the ground beneath your footstool in perfect gladness. Let my garment be red with the common dust you touch with your feet. Set me not higher than others; keep me not apart from all else. Draw me down into a sweet lowliness. Let my garment be red with the common dust you touch with your feet. Let me remain the last of all your pilgrims; I shall try to reach the lowest site which is the broadest. They come from all sides to ask for gifts from your hands. Let me wait till they all have had their shares; I shall be content with the last remnant. Let my garment be red with the common dust you touch with your feet.
