YOU HAVE made me great with your love, though I am but one among the many, drifting in the common tide, rocking in the fluctuant favour of the world.
        You have given me a seat where poets of all time bring their tribute, and lovers with deathless names greet one another across the ages.
        Men hastily pass me in the market,never nothing how my body has grown precious with your caress, how I carry your kiss within, as the sun carries in its orb the fire of the divine touch and shines for ever.

আয় চলে আয়, রে ধূমকেতু,
    আঁধারে বাঁধ্‌ অগ্নিসেতু,
        দুর্দিনের এই দুর্গশিরে
    উড়িয়ে দে তোর বিজয়-কেতন।
অলক্ষণের তিলক-রেখা
    রাতের ভালে হোক-না লেখা--
        জাগিয়ে দে রে চমক মেরে
            আছে যারা অর্ধচেতন।

IF I WERE living in the royal town of Ujjain, when Kalidas was the king's poet, I should know some Malwa girl and fill my thoughts with the music of her name. She would glance at me through the slanting shadow of her eyelids, and allow her veil to catch in the jasmine as an excuse for lingering near me.
        This very thing happened in some past whose track is lost under time's dead leaves.
        The scholars fight to-day about dates that play hide-and-seek.
        I do not break my heart dreaming over flown and vanished ages: but alas and alas again, that those Malwa girls have followed them!
        To what heaven, I wonder, have they carried in their flower-baskets those days that tingled to the lyrics of the king's poet?
        This morning, separation from those whom I was born too late to meet weighs on and saddens my heart.
        Yet April carries the same flowers with which they decked their hair, and the same south breeze fluttered their veils as whispers over modern roses.
        And, to tell the truth, joys are not lacking to this spring, though Kalidas sing no more; and I know, if he can watch me from the Poets' Paradise, he has reasons to be envious.