292 (26/02/1983) D


KÁL RÁTRITE JHAŔA BAYE GECHE
RAJANI GANDHÁ VANE
TÁRI SÁTHE MOR MANE

TUMI ÁSILE NÁ PHIRE CÁHILE NÁ
RAYE GELE ÁNMANE
JHAŔERA ÁGHÁTE KUSUMERA KALI
AKÁLE JHARIYÁ JÁY
PHOT́Á PHUL TÁR SUVÁSER SÁTHE

JYOTSNÁY BHESE JÁY
TUMI ÁSILE NÁ HÁY
ÁMÁRE BHULIÁ KÁR BHÁVANÁYA
CHILE TUMI KON KHÁNE
RAJANIGANDHÁ VANE
TÁRI SÁTHE MOR MANE

JHAŔERA ÁGHÁTE MANO VIIŃÁ MOR
TÁR CHENŔÁ HOYE JÁY
SAB JHAINKÁR KOTHÁY HÁRÁY JÁY
TUMI ÁSILE NÁ HÁY

ÁMÁRE BHULIÁ KON AJÁNÁY
CHILE TUMI NIRJANE
RAJANIGANDHÁ VANE
TÁRI SÁTHE MOR MANE

KÁL RÁTRITE JHAŔA BAYE GECHE
RAJANI GANDHÁ VANE
TÁRI SÁTHE MOR MANE







On an inauspicious night,
in the garden of the night queen,
a storm had raged
and not spared my mind.

You did not come.
You remained indifferent.
Hit by the storm, buds of flowers dropped untimely;
and even the fragrance of those flowers that were blooming
vanished with the moonlight.


Alas, despite all this, You did not come.
Forgetting me, where were You?
In what thought were You absorbed?

Hit by the storm,
the strings of the lyre of my mind got broken.
My entire jingling note found an end,
and yet, You did not come.

To which unknown isolation
did You remain confined, oblivious of me?