WOMAN, THOU hast made my days of exile tender with beauty,
and hast accepted me to thy nearness with a simple grace
that is like the smile with which the unknown star welcomed me
when I stood alone at the balcony and gazed upon the southern night.
There came the voice from above: 'We know you,
For you come as our guest from the dark of the infinite, the guest of light.'
Even in the same great voice thou hast cried to me: 'I know you.'
And though I know not thy tongue. Woman, I have heard it uttered
in thy music,
'You are ever our guest on this earth, poet, the guest of love.'

ছবির জগতে যেথা কোনো ভাষা নেই
      সেথায় তোমার স্থির দৃষ্টি
            যে কাহিনী করিতেছে সৃষ্টি,
ঘটনাবিহীন তার বোবা ইতিহাস
      কালো মেঘে ছেয়ে ফেলে চিত্ত-আকাশ
            বিষাদ-বাদল করে বৃষ্টি।

THE FATHER came back from the funeral rites.
        His boy of seven stood at the window, with eyes wide open and a golden amulet hanging from his neck, full of thoughts too difficult for his age.
        His father took him in his arms and the boy asked him, 'Where is mother?'
        In heaven,' answered his father, pointing to the sky.
At night the father groaned in slumber, weary with grief.
        A lamp dimly burned near the bedroom door, and a lizard chased moths on the wall.
        The boy woke up from sleep, felt with his hands the emptiness in the bed, and stole out to the open terrace.
        The boy raised his eyes to the sky and long gazed in silence. His bewildered mind sent abroad into the night the question, 'Where is heaven?'
No answer came: and the stars seemed like the burning tears of that ignorant darkness.