Priya, Tomár tare
Tava priitir táne;
Ami esechi niye sáji
Nava phágune.

Maner kánane mor jata phul phutechilo,
Sabár gandhamadhu e sájite bhará chilo;
Dháliyá diyechi tái, mor ár kichu nái,
Náo Tumi smitánane.

Asphuta kali kár bhávaná-surabhi pelo,
Paráger madhu kár áshe niye vasechilo;
Tomár carańpáte, drkmadhurii-nipáte
Chute’ elo kena, ke jane.

O dear, for You alone
And in the momentum of Your love,
I have come, with the wicker tray,
In the newly-arrived spring.

All the flowers that bloomed in the grove of my mind –
Their fragrance and nectar – had filled this wicker-tray;
I have poured everything out, nothing remains mine anymore,
Accept my offerings with a benignly smiling face.

The fragrance of whose thoughts did the unbloomed flower receive?
Whose arrival was it awaiting with the nectar hidden in its pollen?
Your footfall, Your sweet divine glance Made it race in:
No one knows why.

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