I AM THE weary earth of summer bare of life and parched.
I wait for thy shower to come down in the night when I open my breast and receive it in silence.
I long to give thee in return my songs and flowers.
But empty is my store, and only the deep sigh rises from my heart
through the withered grass.
But I know that thou wilt wait for the morning when my hours will brim with their riches.

খেলার খেয়াল বশে কাগজের তরী
স্মৃতির খেলনা দিয়ে দিয়ে গেনু ভরি।
যদি ঘাটে গিয়ে ঠেকে প্রভাতবেলায়
তুলে নিয়ো তোমাদের প্রাণের খেলায়।

ON THE seashore of endless worlds children meet. The infinite sky is motionless overhead and the restless water is boisterous. On the seashore of endless worlds the children meet with shouts and dances.
They build their houses with sand and they play with empty shells. With withered leaves they weave their boats and smilingly float them on the vast deep. Children have their play on the seashore of worlds.
They know not how to swim, they know not how to cast nets. Pearl fishers dive for pearls, merchants sail in their ships, while children gather-pebbles and scatter them again. They seek not for hidden treasures, they know not how to cast nets.
The sea surges up with laughter and pale gleams the smile of the sea beach. Death-dealing waves sing meaningless ballads to the children, even like a mother while rocking her baby's cradle. The sea plays with children, and pale gleams the smile of the sea beach.
On the seashore of endless worlds children meet. Tempest roams in the pathless sky, ships get wrecked in the trackless water, death is abroad and children play. On the seashore of endless worlds is the great meeting of children.