MY WORLD, when I was a child, you were a little girl-neighbour, a loving timid stranger.
        Then you grew bold and talked to me across the fence, offering me toys and flowers and shells.
        Next you coaxed me away from my work, you tempted me into the land of the dusk or the weedy corner of some garden in mid-day loneliness.
        At length you told me stories about bygone times, with which the present ever longs to meet so as to be rescued from its prison in the moment.

     উৎসবের রাত্রিশেষে
          মৃৎপ্রদীপ হায়
     তারকার মৈত্রী ছেড়ে
          মৃত্তিকারে চায়।

HERE IS THY footstool and there rest thy feet where live the poorest, and lowliest, and lost.
When I try to bow to thee, my obeisance cannot reacb down to the depth where thy feet rest among the poorest, and lowliest, and lost.
Pride can never approach to where thou walkest in the clothes of the humble among the poorest, and lowliest, and lost.
My heart can never find its way to where thou keepest company with the companionless among the poorest, the lowliest, and the lost.