Phol pholabar asha ami mone rakhini (audio:Arghyo Sen)
I never dreamed of reaping fruit
I am happy to shower my blossoms off
At the slightest tug of the southern breeze
When birds sing soulfully in spring,
Their warbles wane with the wind,
I, too, have let my scores slip, like fallen buds.
When all blossoms are blown,
When I am left barren, all alone,
What will that day be like,
Never have I fretted, nor cared.
Maybe, in my branches, bare with giving,
This message will trill with a beat,
'I have given the ultimate gift,