জগতে আনন্দযজ্ঞে আমার নিমন্ত্রণ।
       ধন্য হল ধন্য হল মানবজীবন।
                           নয়ন আমার রূপের পুরে
                           সাধ মিটায়ে বেড়ায় ঘুরে,
                           শ্রবণ আমার গভীর সুরে
                                  হয়েছে মগন।
       তোমার যজ্ঞে দিয়েছ ভার
              বাজাই আমি বাঁশি।
       গানে গানে গেঁথে বেড়াই
              প্রাণের কান্নাহাসি।
                           এখন সময় হয়েছে কি।
                           সভায় গিয়ে তোমায় দেখি
                           জয়ধ্বনি শুনিয়ে যাব
                                  এ মোর নিবেদন।

I CALL HER MY Krishna flower
though they call her dark in the village.
I remember a cloud-laden day
and a glance from her eyes,
her veil trailing down at her feet
her braided hair loose on her back.
Ah, you call her dark; let that be,
her black gazelle eyes I have seen.
Her cows were lowing in the meadow,
when the fading light grew grey.
With hurried steps she came out
from her hut near the bamboo grove.
She raised her quick eyes to the sky,
where the clouds were heavy with rain.
Ah, you call her dark! let that be,
her black gazelle eyes I have seen.
The East wind in fitful gusts
ruffled the young shoots of rice.
I stood at the boundary hedge
with none else in the lonely land.
If she espied me in secret or not
She only knows and know 1.
Ah, you call her dark! let that be,
her black gazelle eyes I have seen.
She is the surprise of cloud
in the burning heart of May,
a tender shadow on the forest
in the stillness of sunset hour,
a mystery of dumb delight
in the rain-loud night of June.
Ah, you call her dark! let that be,
her black gazelle eyes I have seen.
I call her my Krishna flower,
let all others say what they like.
In the rice-field of Maina village
I felt the first glance of her eyes.
She had not a veil on her face,
not a moment of leisure for shyness.
Ah, you call her dark! let that be,
her black gazelle eyes I have seen.

WHEN I BRING to you coloured toys, my child, I understand why there is such a play of colours on clouds, on water, and why flowers are painted in tints-when I give coloured toys to you, my child.
When I sing to make you dance I truly know why there is music in leaves, and why waves send their chorus of voices to the heart of the listening earth-when I sing to make you dance.
When I bring sweet things to your greedy hands I know why there is honey in the cup of the flower and why fruits are secretly filled with sweet juice-when I bring sweet things to your greedy hands.
When I kiss your face to make you smile, my darling, I surely understand what the pleasure is that streams from the sky in morning light, and what delight that is which the summer breeze brings to my body-when I kiss you to make you smile.