(kandar somoy olpo ore volar somoy boro)
Crying time is limited, forgetting time is unlimited
For nothing collecting dry Bokul for your parting
In a new-coming dance new bud is coming on twigs
Amid brutal wind old flowers are about dropping
Bondage free travelers are moving towards the shade
Leaving their crying amidst bosom of dying grasses
Oh poet, play that child-game of blowing the old leaf
Building new live-altar by fresh tuning of new song
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This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
a very nice poem i enjoyed it. thanks for sharing.
Thank you. All of the Tagore's songs are unique!