Sorrow, o my love,
take me into your arms...

O lady, you've beaten
The misfortune and misery...

Your death has given your eternal birth,
your last long days had heavy foot steps...

I see from far and near
my grandpa's sleek, rocking chair...

Excited feet, instructed feet
tread from the venue to the venue...

Pagli, my love,
hark the loud, hark the proud call...

All the oceans
between us...

Laila, minor lass
the land Bangladesh...

Poets are like poets
possessed by a crony muse...

He stands before
a holy , live idol...

Walk and walk on
no noise , no pause...

All those who are asleep now
not dead for good...