Essence sieved out of innumerable names bestowed on you.
a unique pronoun
Your love harbors grace of music, pictures.
glory and brilliance of truth
Without you, no noun, no pronoun
not even adjective exists,
Only all pervasive omnivorous undecaying void
frustration on the inside,
war and violance.
One day, while in war in great fortitude
I intensely prayed for you
Even from extreme suffering and horror of death
You flowered
And in that hour of prayer and manifestation
My total existence transformed itself
into each of the fleeting bullets
Whistling swiftly
The fiery arrow hitting its mark
And with the heart-strewn blood I composed
Enkindled pictures
Your manifold semblances.

Today no longer can I see you together
But this disjointed self, I don't know how
I have dispensed into you
In the curvature of the brows,
arrogance of the neck
In the flow of arms, moderate swing of the shank
In the lion-cloth end
lying by your feet
In nails gracing magnolia fingers colored
in blooming crimson glow
In engrossed lips
in coyly brought down eyes
Are you my exclusive, my enchanted,
and my auspiciously turbulent Bengali woman,
The tremendous madness of my aggrieved heart,
my unlimited being, my intellect, and my fancy?