চেনা ফুলের গন্ধস্রোতে
Chena phuler gondho-srote
The familiar fragrance of a flower
Wafting in Phalgoon* nights
Brings to my heart,
The breath of a soul
Forever unknown.
The soul who in my youth
Met my familiar eyes,
Played with me
In the dance of my tears and smiles.
Whose words have been whispered
To me by my beloved,
Whose music sobs like a flute
In the heart of my yearning.
Her name lies buried
Among everyday-names.
A soul I found, and yet did not,
Whose fleeting touch I sense
Ever so often.
*Phalgoon - the first month of spring in Bengal.
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