A HANDFUL OF dust could hide your signal when I did not know its meaning.
Now that I am wiser I read it in all that hid it before.
It is painted in petals of flowers; waves flash it from their foam; hills hold it high on their summits.
I had my face turned from you, therefore I read the letters awry and knew not their meaning.

MY LIFE WHEN young was like a flower-a flower that loosens a petal or two from her abundance and never feels the loss when the spring breeze comes to beg at her door.
Now at the end of youth my life is like a fruit, having nothing to spare and waiting to offer herself completely with her full burden of sweetness

শিশির সে চিরন্তন
          যদিও মিলায় মুহূর্তেই।
রাজকণ্ঠে মণিহার
          আছে তবু নিত্যই সে নেই।