তোমার মোহন রূপে কে রয় ভুলে? জানি না কি মরণ নাচে নাচে গো ওই চরণ-মূলে? শরৎ-আলোর আঁচল টুটে কিসের ঝলক নেচে উঠে, ঝড় এনেছ এলোচুলে। মোহন রূপে কে রয় ভুলে? কাঁপন ধরে বাতাসেতে, পাকা ধানের তরাস লাগে শিউরে ওঠে ভরা খেতে। জানি গো আজ হাহারবে তোমার পূজা সারা হবে নিখিল-অশ্রুসাগর-কূলে। মোহন রূপে কে রয় ভুলে?
A VEIL OF A thousand years dropped between you and me when you turned your face and merged in a past where spectre-like dwell they who missed love's path in a timorous dusk of doubt. The space is but narrow that divides us, a tiny stream weaving in its murmur the memory of our parting moment the pathos of your passing footsteps. And all that I can offer to you is the music of an unspoken love for it to follow you and vanish.
YOU DID NOT know yourself when you dwelt alone, and there was no crying of an errand when the wind ran from the hither to the farther shore. I came and you woke, and the skies blossomed with lights. You made me open in many flowers; rocked me in the cradles of many forms; hid me in death and found me again in life. I came and your heart heaved; pain came to you and joy. You touched me and tingled into love. But in my eyes there is a film of shame and in my breast a flicker of fear; my face is veiled and I weep when I cannot see you. Yet I know the endless thirst in your heart for sight of me, the thirst that cries at my door in the repeated knockings of sunrise.
