MY GUEST HAS come to my door in this autumn morning.
Sing, my heart, sing thy welcome!
Make thy song the song of the sunlit blue, of the dew-damp air, of the lavish gold of harvest fields, of the laughter of the loud water.
Or stand mute before him for awhile gazing at his face;
Then leave thy house and go out with him in silence.

(From the Bengali of Satyendranath Datta)
MY FLOWERS were like milk and honey and wine; I bound them into a posy with a golden ribbon, but they escaped my watchful care and fled away and only the ribbon remains.
My songs were like milk and honey and wine, they were held in the rhythm of my beating heart, but they spread their wings and fled away, the darlings of the idle hours, and my heart beats in silence.
The beauty I loved was like milk and honey and wine, her lips like the rose of the dawn, her eyes bee-black. I kept my heart silent lest it should startle her, but she eluded me like my flowers and like my songs, and my love remains alone.

রানী, তোর ঠোঁট দুটি মিঠি
রানী, তোর মধুখানা দিঠি
রানী, তুই মণি তুই ধন,
তোর কথা ভাবি সারাক্ষণ।
দীর্ঘ সন্ধ্যা কাটে কী করিয়া?
সাধ যায় তোর কাছে গিয়া
চুপিচাপি বসি এক ভিতে
ছোটোছোটো সেই ঘরটিতে।
ছোটো হাতখানি হাতে করে
অধরেতে রেখে দিই ধরে।
ভিজাই ফেলিয়া আঁখিজল
ছোট সে কোমল করতল।