There were human beings then,
And spreading green, and rebellion,
The journey of time,
And the bent rainbows of fate,
There was a contentment.
The deep slumber of heart.
And at the center of the dismembered
Colorful dreams.
There was war then,
And the cessation of war
Inside passion's eloquent center

You drove your rhymes all around
With the speed of a deer,
And the controlled power of a tiger,
And raised your sublime forehead
To the vast sky,
Higher than the century itself.

From your expansive chest,
The land, the people, and nature
Rose up like music
Like waves of the Padma,
Solemn and beautiful.
That itself is dying now
Except when it grows passionate suddenly
Attempting to cover its age
With the cosmetics of day gone by
Its effort to hold on to its youth
Are sad, since where there should be water
There are nothing
But heaps of waste sand
Your proud inheritance - fitted-
A large, proud perspective,
You dwarfed even that perspective,
Raising your head high
With its ample, spring hair
But in our dear Bengal today, the world
Keeps continuously shrinking.

Can you forgive our pettiness?