Opening golden clip from your hairs
Open sky of your neck covered with clouds
In hushed whimpering lets there by rain
In the enjoyable abode of Baishakh
Dust-laden path utters ‘let threr be rain’
Jam tree stooped toward the river
Dark cloud-like crow sit at its branch
The majectic Banian tree wearing green garland
Stretched its hands praying ‘let there’s rain’
If the dusty courtyard of my childhood
Coovers the shiny neck with black
Then I love cloud
I dip my lips in that Dense dark hairs
And sing whispering ‘Be it rain, be it rain’.
Translated by Siddique Mahmudur Rahman