DAY BY DAY I float my paper boats one by one down the running stream. In big black letters I write my name on them and the name of the village where I live. I hope that someone in some strange land will find them and know who I am. I load my little boats with shiuli flowers from our garden, and hope that these blooms of the dawn will be carried safely to land in the night. I launch my paper boats and look up into the sky and see the little clouds setting their white bulging sails. I know not what playmate of mine in the sky sends them down the air to race with my boats! When night comes I bury my face in my arms and dream that my paper boats float on and on under the midnight stars. The fairies of sleep are sailing in them, and the lading is their baskets full of dreams.
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.
আমার এ জন্মদিন-মাঝে আমি হারা আমি চাহি বন্ধুজন যারা তাহাদের হাতের পরশে মর্ত্যের অন্তিম প্রীতিরসে নিয়ে যাব জীবনের চরম প্রসাদ, নিয়ে যাব মানুষের শেষ আশীর্বাদ। শূন্য ঝুলি আজিকে আমার; দিয়েছি উজাড় করি যাহা-কিছু আছিল দিবার, প্রতিদানে যদি কিছু পাই কিছু স্নেহ, কিছু ক্ষমা তবে তাহা সঙ্গে নিয়ে যাই পারের খেয়ায় যাব যবে ভাষাহীন শেষের উৎসবে।
