১৭৪
আঁধার একেরে দেখে একাকার ক'রে।
আলোক একেরে দেখে নানা দিক ধ'রে॥

THE FERRY-BOAT plies between the two villages facing each other across the narrow stream.
        The water is neither wide nor deep-a mere break in the path that enhances the small adventures of daily life, like a break in the words of a song across which the tune gleefully streams.
        While the towers of wealth rise high and crash to ruin, these villages talk to each other across the garrulous stream, and the ferry-boat plies between them, age after age, from seed-time to harvest.

THE SCOUTS OF a distant storm have pitched their cloud-tents in the sky the light has paled; the air is damp with tears in the voiceless shadow; of the forest.
The peace of sadness is in my heart like the brooding silence upon the master's lute before the music begins.
My world is still with the expectation of the great pain of thy coming into my life.