(rodono-vora-e bosonto sokhi kokhono-to aseni bujhi aage)
This tears-drenched-spring, Sakhi,
I presume didn’t ever come before
My parting-pain is dark-red color
At the garden door forest-Mollika
Decorated herself in new leaves
All day-night awakened for whom
In southern winds amidst far sky
The lone partner probably singing
Amid the forest my growing buds
Wanting to tear off cover-bondage
Me in this enclosed life keenly
Striking my hand again and again
In mental agony for not-surrendering
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This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem