For Thousands of years, I have roamed ways of the world,
From Sinhala Sea to Malaya Sea in the darkness of night,
Much have I voyaged; in Bimbisar, grayish world of Ashoka
I was existent; in more remote darkness of Vidarbha city.
I am a weary spirit, everywhere the sea of life is lathered,
Gave me peace for a little while, Natore’s Banalata Sen.
Her hair whence-forth dark puzzling Vidisha city’s Night,
Her face is the artwork of Shravasti; Far-off from the sea
Like a ship-wrecked mariner who has lost sight of land,
When he beholds land of green grass in cinnamon island,
That way I saw her in darkness; said she “Where’ve you been?”
Raising her bird-nest-like eyes, Banalata Sen of Natore.
After the end of entire day, like the reverberation of dew
Comes Twilight; The kites wipe out the smell of sun-heat;
When all the colours of world fade, those Manuscripts
Prepare for the stories full of colours of luminous fireflies.
All birds return to nest – all rivers – transactions of life end;
Only remains darkness, to sit face-to-face with Banalata Sen.