EI TAMASA'Y BHARA' BARAS'A'Y

Translation

In this same gloom-filled rainy season,
My mind goes on floating with a cloudy-green complexion,
Like sweet beauty of a bamboo flute's arbor.

That Beloved, won't He come, won't He play a reed pipe;
Won't He sway a heart with Jamuna waters of pastime?
On the octave won't a lyre with its jingling sound excite,
And by even just one person does this get labeled love?

Outside, the rain exudes a sleep-breaking tune;
Unseen by all, at home my eyes effuse.
Drenched by a tear-stream, mid whole world in solitude,
Who looks afresh in my direction!